


In Focus

by dassala



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, Unconventional Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-03-28 16:24:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13907814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dassala/pseuds/dassala
Summary: Emma Swan's CEO fiance Graham Humbert has hired a wedding photographer to capture every aspect of the wedding planning process. Killian Jones usually hates these stuck-up, spoiled rich brides he captures on film, but Emma is different.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This fic contains elements that may be squicky or disturbing to some of the CS audience. I want you to know that both Emma and Killian have sexual relationships with other characters in this fic. They also both get very drunk at different times throughout the story. So if you have an aversion to alcohol abuse (especially as a crutch), and you can’t stand the idea of Emma and Killian being with other people, this may not be the story for you. However, that said, you should know that I never write CS fic without a happy ending. :) So if you can stick it out, I promise satisfaction.
> 
> Also a HUGE thanks to Caitlin (awkwardnessandbaseball) for giving a second pair of eyes to this story <3

_I miss you._  


Three little words from her could send him into a self-destructive spiral of booze and emotionless hook-ups. Not just those three, either. Sometimes she would send: _I want you_. Or: _I need you_. Or: _I love you_.

  
He did, in fact, love her too. But he also hated her. He hated the way she had total control over him, to this day. So to the bourbon he would go, disappearing for days at a time, losing track of all of the hours he was spending - no, wasting, thinking about _her_. It was the little things he remembered most. Funny how that always seemed to happen. With Milah, he thought mostly of the way her hair would fall across her furrowed brow when she was cross with him, or the routine she followed every morning with her skincare. He could still smell the eucalyptus moisturizer she wore. Any time he’d catch a whiff of it from a passerby, his heart clenched hard within his chest. 

  
As the sunlight streamed in through his bedroom window, Killian Jones groaned and tugged his pillow up over his face. No sooner had he blocked the sun’s assault than a chirping alarm sounded from the bedside table. He reached blindly for the phone, only to knock the infernal device to the floor with a clatter.  


“Fuck,” he whispered, turning over onto his back. The tone continued to ravage his nerves as he reached, in vain, for his phone.

  
A cold, wet nose nudged his still-outstretched hand.  


“Go 'way, Rog,” Killian muttered. The response came in the form of a high-pitched whine, a loud, repetitive thump of the beast’s thick brown tail against the nightstand, and a rustling of fur against the pillow as Roger tried to wriggle his way into bed with his master.  


Killian laughed and tossed the pillow aside, pulling his ever-faithful companion closer for a quick belly rub. The chocolate-colored Labrador Retriever was approaching his fifth birthday. The pup had been adopted by Killian and then-wife Milah a few days after their first wedding anniversary. He recalled the day they’d strolled into the ASPCA. They were “just looking”, as she’d said, her fingers entwined with his. Not an hour later, and they were walking the rambunctious dog through a pet supply store, debating the best sort of food for his growing appetite.  


A few minutes later and Killian had managed to roll out of bed, grabbing his still-chirping phone from its resting place on the floor. He rubbed at his eyes with a loud yawn and glanced at the alarm’s accompanying reminder.  


“Oh shit,” he spat, suddenly awake and scurrying to get out of the apartment as quickly as he could manage.  


\--  


“You sure this guy is gonna show?” Emma Swan asked, checking her watch for the third time since they’d arrived. Her long blonde locks were swept up into a ponytail, which swished as she shook her head. Tugging her phone from her front pocket, she tapped the screen and swiped through a few numbers in her contacts.  


“I’m sure he’s just stuck in traffic,” Graham Humbert muttered, taking a glance at his own wrist with a sigh. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his immaculately-tailored suit and shuffled his weight from one foot to the other.  


“Terribly, terribly sorry,” a voice came from behind them.  


“Ah, there he is,” Graham said, turning to the photographer with a brilliant smile. He offered a hand to the man. “Emma, this is Killian Jones. Killian, this is my fiancee, Emma Swan, the lovely bride-to-be.”  


Eight years with the man, and Emma had become immune to Graham’s compliments. She took Killian’s hand when he offered it, shaking it firmly with a polite smile. The young man was attractive, with a ruffled devil-may-care sort of quality to him. His dark hair was disheveled in a trendy sort of way, and his eyes were a vibrant blue. He also smelled of bourbon and the bags under his eyes said everything she needed to know about why he had been late. A tortured artist-type, she supposed. Nothing at all like the calculated, meticulous Graham. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Jones. So,” she cleared her throat, “shall we go in?”  


“So anxious,” Graham teased, opening the door to the swanky Manhattan hotel where they had gathered. “I think this is the venue we’ve finally settled on. Our date is open, so I’m going to be putting down the deposit today.”  


“You’ve chosen a lovely place,” Killian replied with a smile, adjusting the camera around his neck. “Would you care if I get some candid shots?”  


Emma’s eyes widened and she looked at Graham, “I thought we were just meeting with him and scheduling the engagement photos for later this month.”  


“Well, this isn’t an engagement photo session, per se,” Graham said with a smile, taking Emma’s hand into his. “I’ve hired Mr. Jones here to photograph the whole wedding planning process, you see.”  


Emma glanced back at the photographer, who gave a sort of sheepish smile. “Your fiance has ordered a full-service package. Seems I’ll be lurking about in everything you do, planning-wise. Sorry, Miss Swan.”  


“Ah,” she said, clearing her throat. “Then, um, give me just a minute.”  


No matter how many times she had told Graham that a big society wedding and fancy things were not necessary in their relationship, he insisted that she have the best. She shoved open the door to the ladies’ room in the lobby of the hotel and dug around in her bag for some lipstick, blush, and eyeliner. After shaking her hair free from its elastic confines, she frowned into the mirror. If only Graham had told her they’d be taking photos, she’d be much more comfortable and dressed for being on camera. She sighed and made her way back outside, where the two men were still standing around, sort of looking awkward.  


As she exited the lobby, her eyes widened. She reached into her purse for just a moment, rummaging around. She grasped a round lip balm container and twisted it open. Instead of balm, however, there was a massive, sparkling diamond ring inside. She slid on her engagement ring, clearing her throat with embarrassment.  


“Okay, ready,” she smiled up at Graham, who frowned.  


“Doesn’t it fit?” He asked, gesturing to her left hand.  


“Just a little loose,” Emma shrugged. “It’s...heavy and turns over. I’ll get it fixed soon.”  


With a nod, Graham took Emma’s hand in his and headed in through the revolving doors to the swanky hotel.  


Killian knelt behind the pair and snapped a few shots. With a click of the shutter, the planning of the Swan/Humbert wedding was officially underway.  


\--  


“This is huge,” Emma muttered as she stepped into the grand ballroom. With tall ceilings and marble columns, it was easily one of the largest rooms she’d ever encountered. Lavish carpets were plush beneath her feet, and there were long, secluded hallways down either side of the space.  


“Should be just big enough,” Graham smiled, pointing up at the ornate ceiling. “What do you think about those white or gold swags across the ceiling? White tablecloths. Some of those, um, you know gold bamboo chairs with the white seats? Oh, and loveseats in each wee little nook over there.”  


Killian snapped a few shots of the bride and groom as they took in the space. Emma ignored the clicks, taking in the sight of the place with absolute bewilderment instead.  


“Your family isn’t quite that large,” she finally laughed, considering her fiance’s comment about the size of the room. “Unless you plan on inviting the entire county back in Ireland. And you know I don’t have, well, any family.”  


“Clients, Emma,” Graham grinned and leaned in to give her a kiss. _Snap._  


Emma frowned as she pulled back from her fiance’s lips. “Clients? This is our wedding, not a marketing opportunity.”  


“We can drum up some additional business by inviting prospective and current clients. Besides, it’s not about them, it’s about us. Won’t matter who’s here. I’ll be focused on you,” Graham noted. His phone trilled from his pocket, and with a raise of a finger to Emma, he ducked out of the ballroom, chatting quickly into the device.  


Killian cleared his throat and offered a sympathetic smile. “Maybe, um, the event will pay for itself, then.”  


Shrugging, Emma sighed. Paying for things was not the issue. She glanced around the room for a moment, toeing the ornate carpet with the white rubber-capped tip of her Converse shoe. She then looked to Killian. “You look like you could use a cup of coffee.”  


\--  


Just inside the hotel’s small coffee shop, Emma relaxed into a high-backed chair and cradled a hot chocolate between her hands. Killian sank onto the nearby sofa and sipped from his own black coffee.  


“Thank you,” he gestured with the cup, offering a slight smile. “Had a bit of a rough night last night.”  


“I could tell,” she smirked. “I’ve seen that look in the mirror far too many times.”  


“I promise it’s...not something I plan on doing again, the night before a meeting with you two,” Killian insisted quickly. “I’m usually very professional.”  


“Hey, you’re only human,” Emma shrugged. “I don’t know what good all these photos will be, to be perfectly honest. Our apartment doesn’t have that many walls.”  


Chuckling, Killian nodded, “Well, you don’t want to forget a moment of this. It’s one of the most important days of your life, right? You’ll want to show your children these photos when they’re growing up, right?”  


“That’s what they say,” Emma muttered against the lip of her cocoa before taking a sip. Her left thumb idly toyed with her ring as she gazed down a long hallway lined with doors. She declined to comment further regarding children. With owning a booming business of their own, neither she nor Graham had the time to slow down and raise a family. She’d always thought she’d be a mother one day, but now that her life was to be permanently entwined with one of New York’s most powerful personal security professionals, she knew things were going to be different.  


“Really, I’m just doing my job, Miss Swan. If I’m a pest, let me know,” he smirked. He took a long draw from his coffee and then cleared his throat. “And don’t...don’t worry about the clients versus personal guests thing. Lots of couples clash on wedding plans. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”  


“Oh, I know...can’t agree on everything, can we?” She smiled and sipped at her cup, nodding in agreement with his advice. She sighed and checked her watch. Graham was still on the phone in the hallway to their left. His voice was fairly animated, so she knew he was on a roll with a sales pitch. “So, tell me about yourself, Killian. Since we’re to be so close throughout this process…”  


Killian shrugged, “Well, not much to say. I’ve been a photographer since I was a teenager. You’ll excuse me for not divulging how many years that’s been…”  


With a laugh, Emma nodded, “Yeah, I can’t even fathom how many years it’s been since I was a teen. Your accent - England?”  


“Aye,” he nodded with a smirk against the rim of his own coffee cup. “I, um, I moved here when I finished University. Live on a boat. Have a dog.”  


Her eyebrows raised. Emma opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off as Graham entered the room. He grinned broadly and rubbed his hands together. “Landed the Pearson account,” he spread his arms wide toward Emma, who smiled and pushed out of the chair to embrace him.  


“Well, it’s about time,” she grinned and buried her face against Graham’s neck as she listened to the camera shutter snap a few more times. “You’ve only worked on that one for a year now.”  


“Hard work begets success,” Graham repeated, as he always did when he landed a difficult account. It was something his father had told him ages ago. “Now, let’s get on with the planning, hm? We need to schedule out a few things for Mr. Jones here.”  


\--  


“So,” Ruby Lucas called out as she flounced into Emma’s office, a nail file in one hand and a water bottle in the other, “I went out with ‘Doctor Blond’ last night. You know, the Tinder match in Brooklyn?” She sat in one of the office’s chairs, directly across from Emma’s desk, and promptly turned sideways to kick her legs up over the arm.  


“Yeah? And?” Emma asked, not looking up from her laptop. She tapped out the final lines of a rather argumentative email before glancing up at her best friend.  


“Decent looks, paid for dinner, average dick, seems to know how to use it. Might see him again,” Ruby beamed. She placed her water bottle on the side table and went to work on her fingernails. “How was your meeting with the photographer? Did you guys settle on The Pierre?”  


Lifting her eyebrows at the description of Ruby’s date, she nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess he thinks he needs all the space because he’s inviting all of his family...plus clients.”  


“Wait,” Ruby halted her work with the emory board and swung her legs back down to a somewhat normal sitting position, “he’s inviting clients to your _wedding_?”  


“Remind me again why I agreed to this spectacle?” Emma sighed, leaning back in her own chair. She let her head fall back and stared at the ceiling. “I wanted to elope.”  


“Do you want me to talk to him? It’s pretty obvious you don’t have the balls to object to any of this, so…”  


“No,” Emma groaned, pushing herself up out of her chair. She moved to pour herself a glass of water. It was only nine in the morning and she felt as if she had been at work for eighteen hours already. “I’ll talk to him. I’m just working up the nerve. He hired this photographer to follow my every move during the wedding planning process. It’s so overwhelming, already.”  


With a snort, Ruby stood and gathered her things, tucking her water bottle under her arm. “He _is_ head of one of the world’s largest security firms. I swear he’s just keeping an eye on you.”  


“What am I gonna do?” Emma huffed. “All I do is work, go home, watch Netflix…”  


“Absolutely nothing fun,” Ruby winked and sauntered out of the office, calling over her shoulder, “Let’s get martinis tonight!”  


“Okay, fine...let’s hit a Village bar,” Emma noted as Ruby left, wondering exactly _what_ her friend would consider to be ‘fun’ that was not also cheating or illegal.  


\--  


Another day, another dollar. When not spending his time following the instructions of spoiled, entitled brides, Killian would venture into the city with his guitar and make the Open Mic Night rounds. Tonight he was in The Village, having scored a coveted spot at a bar called The Bitter End on Bleecker. Photography was not quite as much of a creative outlet as his music was. He often wrote songs when he drank, and he usually drank whenever Milah tortured him by text message. Tonight she had slipped into her usual radio silence, and so he was determined to vent his frustration at the aptly-named bar.  


On nights like tonight, he would play his guitar until his well-worn fingertips bled. He would spend hours playing a rotation of familiar tunes, angsty breakup music of his own composition, and long stream-of-consciousness melodies.  


The crowd at the bar was made of twenty-something selfie addicts and a handful of women with some very strong opinions about one thing or another, judging by the looks on their companions’ faces. He strummed the guitar slowly, watching his reflection in the mirrored back of the bar. He had lost some weight since Milah left. He rarely had an appetite anymore. The self-destruction was not actually a conscious thing, just...lack of interest.  


Sometimes he wondered about seeing a shrink. Maybe they’d be able to help him. When your wife leaves you for a man twice your age, you start to doubt your self worth. Sure, it was likely that she was just into Robert Gold’s money and power, but...what if he hadn’t satisfied her? What if there was more to her desertion of him?  


“Play Freebird!” Someone shouted at the stage. With a deep breath, Killian forced a rude gesture out of his mind and instead did as he was asked, plucking the opening notes on the strings of his guitar.  


\--  


Emma and Ruby made their way down Bleecker around 11pm, when Ruby was just beginning to hit her stride. She moaned and laid her head on Emma’s shoulder with a heavy sigh.  


“Emma,” she whined, “we’re getting old.”  


“You’re getting old,” Emma replied with a smirk, doing her best to balance atop the heels her friend had insisted she wear. “I’m getting married, so I’m already old.”  


“Yeah, but,” Ruby sighed, “‘member when we used to be able to close down the bar? I just yawned. _Yawned_ , Emma. It’s not that late. Why am I yawning?!”  


“One more stop, okay?” Emma chuckled, meandering toward the sound of a strumming guitar on the darkened city street. “Then we’ll get you home.”  


With an indignant look, Ruby pulled back to look at her friend of many years. “No offense, but I really don’t want you to take me home. There had better be something worth my time in there.”  


The bar was dark, as most of them were. The two women shuffled their way through a maze of red candle-lit cocktail tables and found at least standing space against the marble-topped bar. Emma shouted an order to the bartender as Ruby steadied herself and applied more lipstick.  


“So what’s next in the wedding planning?” Ruby asked as their drinks arrived. She raised her glass to Emma before taking a drink.  


Emma lifted the martini glass and sipped. The liquor burned its way down her throat before she replied. “Engagement photos, then engagement party,” she muttered, just barely over the volume of the music.  


“Oh, right,” Ruby nodded, tipping her glass in her friend’s direction, “I need shoes for that party.”  


“Like you don’t own every single pair of size ten shoes in Manhattan?” Emma’s brow raised as the music came to a stop. There was a smattering of polite applause. “Do none of them go with your dress?”  


“Um,” Ruby frowned, “You know I don’t make an appearance in the same situation twice.” She gestured to her outfit to indicate her ‘situation’. Tonight was a ‘take me home’ sort of getup, with a black bodycon dress and vibrant pink pumps. Her long brunette locks were loose over her bare shoulders.  


“Right,” Emma replied, rolling her eyes, “you have a reputation to up--”  


“Woah,” Ruby interrupted Emma, licking her lips, “Hot musician alert.” The brunette’s posture changed completely. She gave a Kardashian red carpet-worthy back arch and allowed a playful smirk to cross her perfect features.  


Emma glanced over her shoulder toward the stage, and had to do a double-take. “Killian?”  


“What!?” Ruby gasped, shooting a wide-eyed glance at her friend, “you _know_ hot guitar guy?!”  


“Ah, yeah,” Emma laughed, nodding. She raised her hand and gave a slight wave to the young man, who was placing his guitar on its stand. “That...is my wedding photographer, actually.”  


“Oh,” Ruby looked slightly disappointed, pursing her lips. Emma glanced back at her and took a minute to read over her best friend’s features.  


“You’re trying to decide if it’s worth the hook up if you’re going to see him again, aren’t you?”  


With a grin, Ruby bit down on the rim of her glass and nodded. “I mean...maybe?”  


Climbing down the stage stairs, Killian smiled and made his way toward Emma and Ruby.  


“Miss Swan,” he smiled, as he approached. He would have offered his hand to shake, if he had not worn his fingertips raw during one of his more emotional tunes. “Good to see you. Having a girls’ night?”  


Emma nodded and smiled. “Please, it’s Emma. And yes, as a matter of fact,” she replied and cleared her throat, putting her martini glass back down on the bar. “Killian Jones, this is my best friend and Maid of Honor Ruby Lucas. Ruby, this is my wedding photographer, Killian Jones.”  


Ruby nodded and grinned, “A man of many talents, I see,” she ran her tongue slowly over her pink-painted lips to wet them. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”  


“Ah,” Killian rubbed at the back of his neck, which was damp with sweat, “I suppose we will. I hope you ladies were enjoying the music.”  


“We definitely were,” Ruby answered before Emma had a chance. Turning to the bar, Emma re-ordered for the pair, as well as a glass of water for Killian.  


“I’ll get you a beer if you want, but I thought maybe you’d prefer the water after all of that up there,” Emma grinned.  


“Nah, next one’s on me,” he insisted, taking the water and lifting it in a gesture of thanks. “You did buy my coffee after all.”  


Ruby shot Emma a look, her perfectly-defined eyebrow raising. Emma cleared her throat and excused herself to the restroom, leaving the pair to chat at the bar. She pulled her phone from her bag and swiped the screen to read a message from Graham.  


Message from Graham: _Hope you’re having fun. Not too much, though. We have a meeting on Pearson tomorrow at 8am sharp. Be ready. Dinner tomorrow night at Morimoto._  


She smirked and shook her head. After checking her makeup in the mirror, she took a quick selfie and shot it back to him, with an accompanying message.  


_The more fun I have tonight, the more fun YOU have tonight._  


She washed her hands and made her way back out to the bar, where Killian was climbing back up onto the stage. Emma raised her brow at Ruby, who smirked.  


“Don’t look at me like that. No slut shaming allowed, remember? Besides...this one might be worth the wait,” Ruby grinned and raised her glass to Emma. “To hot, sweaty, artistic men.”  


Laughing, Emma grabbed her newly-replenished drink and tapped the rim against Ruby’s glass. “To...this being the last drink. And then I have to go home.”  


Ruby pouted, but touched her glass to Emma’s. Killian’s smooth voice rang out over the speakers and he began once again strumming his guitar. Emma felt her phone buzz in her purse. She pulled it out with a smirk and slid open the text.  


Message from Graham: _I’m already in bed. Can you try not to wake me when you get in?_  


Smile fading, Emma sighed heavily and tucked the phone away, downing her drink as quickly as possible.  



	2. Chapter 2

Central Park’s Loeb boathouse was a fairly cliched location for engagement photos, but it was Graham Humbert’s request. The pair had arrived roughly ten minutes after Killian got to the locale to set up his lighting and scout out a few spots. As they arrived, Killian smiled warmly at Emma and offered a professional handshake to Graham.  


“Good morning,” Killian said, clearing his throat, “you both look exceedingly well-rested. Great!”  


“I’d hope so,” Graham said with a chuckle, wrapping his arm around Emma’s waist and pulling her close. “This one slept all day Saturday, I swear. And spent an hour getting ready this morning.”  


“Graham,” Emma took in a deep breath and forced a smile. She shifted slightly in his grasp. Killian could feel the tension in the room.  


“You look beautiful,” Killian responded quickly, trying to break up the awkward moment. He led the pair toward the main dining area, where a few tables had been moved out to make for an elegant photo space. He had rearranged some existing flowerpots and created a spot for the pair to pose. He noticed Graham’s tendency to want to possess Emma in the photos. Each click of the shutter made him nearly cringe with the cliched poses Graham chose, wrapping his arms around her, his strong back and shoulders turned toward the camera or his face appearing right over Emma’s shoulder.  


“Okay, so,” Killian gestured toward the lakeside verandah, “It generally works out better if I get some solo shots as well. And then we’ll do some boat work after that. So, if you don’t mind, can I borrow Emma for some pictures near the flowering tree out here?”  


“No problem,” Graham smirked. He gave Emma a kiss on the cheek, “Just give her back when you’re finished.”  


Emma turned away from her fiance and stepped out onto the deck. She twisted her ring around her finger in a sort of nervous tick, Killian noticed. Sensing her tension, Killian paused and allowed her a moment to breathe in the fresh air. He pulled up a chair and held out a hand to her, to help her in sitting.  


“Do you need another minute?” He asked, sitting down across from her. His eyes were soft, searching hers to see if there was anything he could do to ease her mood.  


Emma nodded and swallowed hard. She cleared her throat and whispered in return, “Just...a lot of stuff going on, today.”  


Nodding, he leaned back in the chair and thought for a moment, “I heard a really corny joke the other day. Do you like corny jokes?”  


“Sure,” Emma expression spread slowly into a smirk of anticipation.   


“Why does Snoop Dogg use an umbrella?” Killian asked, carefully adjusting the strap of his camera around his neck.  


Rolling her eyes, Emma laughed slightly. “Okay, why does Snoop Dogg use an umbrella?”  


“Fo’ Drizzle,” he responded, beaming. Perhaps it was the joke, or maybe the way he’d said it in his soft English accent, but Emma burst into a genuine belly laugh.  


“Oh my God, that’s awful,” she responded, shaking her head. “But thank you. I needed a good laugh.”  


“You are absolutely welcome,” Killian grinned and offered his hand to help her out of the chair, “Are you ready, Miss Swan?”  


“Yes, thank you,” she took his hand and allowed him to lead her to the tree near the edge of the verandah, which was flowering with tiny white blooms. She remained still as he adjusted a couple of the branches, then backed away and took a look.  


Petals fell behind Emma where she stood, leaning slightly against the railing of the verandah. He lifted the camera and watched her through the lens, adjusting to focus upon her eyes, which picked up a hint of green from the water below. With a few clicks, he captured her image, knowing it would pale in comparison to how beautiful she actually was. He remained for a moment still, then stepped forward.   


“May I?” He asked, gesturing to her hands. She nodded and watched as he carefully guided her to bend against the railing, moving to the side. He reached up, brushing a strand of her long blonde locks to rest just over her eye.   


“Perfect,” he whispered. He found it almost instinctual as he said it, and it was definitely not something he would ever say about his own work. It must have been the subject. Swallowing hard, he knelt down just beside her. “Can you look out at the fountain just there, for me?”  


“You make her look great,” Graham said from the door, watching Killian as he snapped off a few photos. Emma stiffened and shifted her weight onto one hip, crossing her arms over her chest as she gave Graham a dubious look.  


Killian stood and shook his head. “None of that is my doing, I assure you. Are you ready for your closeup, Mr. Humbert?”  


Emma smirked and watched Graham tuck his hands into his jeans, shrugging. “I don’t know if we need any of just me.”  


“Maybe he can make you look good, too,” Emma quipped, stepping past her fiance to head inside.  


Killian stifled a laugh and looked down at his camera to hide his smirk.  


\--  


With an exceptionally well-paying job on the line, Killian knew it was imperative that he keep up his spirits and energy. The Swan/Humbert wedding was six months away, and the engagement party was in the next week. A run did well for his soul, as well as for Roger. With the dog on a leash, he tied his trainers and stretched before taking to the trails in Central Park. The commute into the city for a run was more than tedious, but he absolutely adored the scenery. Something about being in nature amidst skyscrapers gave him a sense of perspective. The aesthetic was a motivator for him.  


Roger trotted along the paved walkway, keeping pace with his owner. The afternoon was warm, for November. Coming to a stop near a drinking fountain, he bent over, hands on his knees to catch his breath. The running was cathartic, but sometimes he felt as if liquor and a stream of sexual partners worked a little better. Reaching over, he patted Roger’s head and stepped on the pedal on the side of the fountain to allow the dog to hydrate himself.   


“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you without a camera or a guitar,” a voice said from behind him as Killian bent to take a drink from the taller portion of the fountain. He stood and turned to see a sweaty Emma Swan, smirking as she shifted her weight and checked her wrist-strapped fitness tracker.  


“No, no cameras or instruments during my workout,” he chuckled, running his fingers through his messy hair. “I’ve got my phone, though, if you want some photos of your run?” He teased, reaching into his pocket.  


Laughing loudly, Emma shook her head and raised her hands up over her face. “No, thank you!”   


Her laugh made him smile as he removed his hand from his pocket, showing both palms to be empty. Roger tugged at the leash, wrapped around his wrist, and whined. “Oh, where are my manners? Miss Emma Swan, this is Roger. Roger, this is my client, Miss Swan.”  


Squatting down, Emma offered her hand to Roger with a grin. The big brown dog responded by placing his paw into her hand, which gave the young woman the giggles as she shook it. “What a good boy you are, Roger!”  


The pup panted happily and glanced up at Killian, who laughed, “He is, he really is.”  


“Did you have a good run?” Standing once more, Emma maneuvered to the water fountain and took a drink. Killian mentally scolded himself for noticing that she had no panty line under her spandex running shorts. He averted his eyes quickly and coughed to cover up his awkward shuffle.   


“Ah, yeah, I did, thanks,” he forced a smile and rubbed behind Roger’s ear. “Surprised to see you running on your own. Mr. Humbert decide against it?”  


Emma wrinkled her nose and shrugged, “Really, he prefers the gym.”  


Killian’s eyebrow shot up, but he reserved the comment that ached to spring from his lips and settled for a non-committal, “To each their own, I suppose.” What kind of man was Graham Humbert? He was marrying a beautiful woman with the most gorgeous smile and enchanting laugh. Yet he preferred to go to the gym rather than spend his time with her, working up a sweat in the park.   


“Well,” Emma shuffled her feet and glanced around, “you’ll probably be sick of me, before long. Not only do we have a freakish ability to run into one another, but the engagement party is next week.”  


“Doubt I could be,” he answered without thinking of it. He felt the blood rushing into his neck as he fumbled for the right words, “but yeah, it is. Mr. Humbert said this is a smaller affair, correct? I likely won’t need a second shooter, will I?”  


Emma looked confused at his question and frowned.  


“Oh, I mean...a second camera. I contract out some of the work for larger events, such as the wedding. They work under my direction, but we cover more ground with two photographers,” he laughed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to sound violent.”  


She laughed, shaking her head. Her ponytail swished side to side, and he felt his body almost tingling at the prospect of making her laugh. Oh no. He had felt like this before. With Milah. _Shit._  


“Yeah, it’s just at our apartment. You’ll be fine,” she licked her lips and glanced down at her fitness tracker, “Well, I should get going.”  


“Right,” he nodded and stepped back away from the trail, allowing Roger to sit in the grass. “Have a great rest of your run.”  


“You too!” She waved and took off down the path. She turned the corner, disappearing behind a grove of evergreens.   


“Fuck, Rog,” he whispered as Emma jogged away. “I’m in trouble.”  


\--  


Killian arrived at Emma and Graham’s apartment a few minutes prior to the start of the party. Graham opened the door and offered his hand to the photographer.  


“Killian, welcome,” the two men shook hands amiably. “Please come in and set up whatever you need. I know we talked about a photo booth?”  


“Ah, yes,” Killian nodded, patting a large duffel bag on his shoulder, “Got what you asked for.” He took in the large space as he walked inside, which was a penthouse with an incredible view of the Empire State building and all before it. The apartment was decorated with a modern, yet classic sort of look. Wood candlesticks and faux-fur rugs. Metal coffee table and an overstuffed sofa. He admired the view for a moment, then turned to Graham, who was texting with a furrowed brow.  


Emma hurried past the pair of them in what he assumed was a slip and definitely bare feet, fiddling with an earring as she calmly asked the caterer about the number of canapes. Her hair was in an elegant braid along the crown of her head, from which soft blonde waves cascaded.   


Giving up on further instruction from either of them, Killian moved to the indicated corner, but was nearly bowled over by a fast-moving Emma, who laughed and held his arms to steady him.   


“Sorry!” she beamed, releasing her hold on his arms, “Just trying to get all of the last minute things done. How are you?”  


Before he could answer, she had been whisked away by Graham, who apparently needed an urgent opinion on cufflinks. Drawing in a deep breath, Killian stepped to the corner and pulled out his photography equipment.  


Guests filed into the room, bringing elegantly-wrapped packages of all sizes. Emma, finally dressed and polished to completion, stood dutifully next to Graham and greeted each guest in turn. Killian found a decent couple of spots in the room and rotated throughout, snapping off photographs of hugs and smiles.   


While taking a moment to readjust his focus, Killian felt a tap on his shoulder. He glanced back and smiled. The statuesque brunette from the bar stood there in a lacy red dress with a high collar and a dangerously short skirt. “Hey there,” he grinned, letting his camera once again hang around his neck, “Ruby, right?”  


She nodded with a smirk and gestured to a waiter as he neared. “Can I get you a drink?”  


“Ah, working,” he lifted his camera with a soft chuckle. “Enjoying yourself?”  


With a shrug, Ruby pursed her lips and took a sip from her own rocks glass before stirring the contents slowly with a black straw, which matched her inky-lacquered fingernails. “I’m better now. What is all this?” She stepped closer to the props he had brought for the ‘photo booth’ setup Graham had requested.  


“Props for the photos!” Killian grinned and picked up a hat, placing it upon Ruby’s head. She grinned and put her drink aside, moving to grasp an inflatable guitar.   


“Look at me, I’m a hot, brooding guitar player,” she mimicked some of the mannerisms she had seen when Killian played.  


He clicked his tongue and shook his head, “Man, do I really look that bad?” As Ruby scoffed, he snapped off a few photos and laughed. “Gotcha.”  


\--  


Emma’s cheeks hurt. She had been smiling way too much with each arrival. Hell, she had no idea who half of these people were, but she gave handshakes and beamed as much as she could. She heard Ruby’s loud giggle from the side of the living room and turned to look that way. Her Maid of Honor was shimmying a bit in the corner, a long pink feather boa wrapped around the back of her shoulders. Killian was grinning at her as he took a couple of photos, shaking his head.   


“I’m not going to be able to send these to Mr. Humbert, you know,” he winked at her and took another few shots, “they’re a tad inappropriate.”  


“Keep them,” Ruby teased, and picked up a fake moustache to place upon her upper lip.  


Gathering her clout, Emma decided she’d overheard quite enough and strolled slowly toward the pair to join their conversation. She gave Ruby a slightly uncomfortable smile. “I see you’ve sampled the bar,” she nodded to her friend. Killian’s posture straightened slightly and his smile fell. He swallowed hard.   


“Sorry, I’ll...mill around a bit more, shall I?”   


Emma watched as Killian moved into the crowd to gather a few more candid shots. He had dressed up a bit for this occasion. Instead of the grungy look he’d had at the hotel, he wore black slacks and a blue button-down shirt with the top two buttons open. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing the powerful forearms typical of a guitarist. Ruby cleared her throat, one hand on her hip.  


Emma’s eyebrow raised. “What are you doing?”  


“Oh,” Ruby crossed her arms over her chest, “I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?”  


“You’re kinda slutting it up with my photographer while he’s on the clock,” Emma muttered, grabbing a glass of champagne from the waiter. Both of Ruby’s eyebrows lifted and she blinked a few times. Emma sighed after sipping from her flute. “Sorry. Just...maybe wait until he’s not supposed to be taking photos of the other guests?”  


“You’ve never been like this before,” Ruby muttered, walking past her best friend. “Bridezilla ahoy…”  


It was true. Emma never cared before about Ruby’s varying conquests, even around the office. And ‘slut’ was not a word she would normally use regarding her friend’s social habits. Closing her eyes, Emma took in a deep breath. Was it the wedding, or was it the photographer? Nonsense. Emma was happy. She was engaged and about to marry the love of her life, was she not?   


“Emma!”   


A pale blonde in a modest blue dress made her way to Emma, throwing her arms around her with a squeal. Emma gasped and hugged the young woman in return, rocking her slowly back and forth.  


“Elsa!” Pulling back with a grin, Emma gazed upon her college roommate and shook her head, “Oh my God, you look amazing!”  


\--  


Hearing the squeals, Killian turned and snapped a quick couple of photos of Emma and the blonde. This Elsa was an ethereal sort of beauty, with shimmery pale skin and long thin fingers. As he examined her, he realized she reminded him of a girl his brother had once dated. He smiled fondly, then nudged a button on his camera to view what he had already taken.   


“When are you off duty?” Ruby asked covertly, sidling up beside him once more. She twisted a flute of champagne between her fingers.  


Glancing back up at the brunette, he met her gaze and gave a somewhat embarrassed smile. He could have no doubt about the beautiful woman’s intentions, with a look like that in her eyes. “Another hour or so. Perhaps we could get a drink?”  


“Perfect,” Ruby said, tipping the glass against her lips and stepping away from him. “I'm positively parched.”  


A pang of something hit him square in the gut. It was unfamiliar to him, but definitely not a great feeling. He looked up once more to see Emma, smiling and dragging her friend around the apartment by her hand.  


Killian’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he frowned, lifting the device. He smirked when he saw the caller ID.  


“Liam,” he greeted his older brother, “hey, good to hear from you. Can I call you back, um, tomorrow? Kinda busy right now.”  


“Whatever you need, little brother,” Liam chuckled into the phone. There was a clink of glasses in the background. “I hope there’s a pretty young thing involved.”  


“You mean younger brother. And yes, but I’m working at this moment. She’ll come later,” Killian glanced to Ruby, who was dancing in the corner with another girl who he recognized as a bridesmaid.  


The laugh from Liam was positively filthy, “Oi, attaboy. Be safe. Talk to you tomorrow.”  


Rolling his eyes, Killian pocketed the phone once more and lifted his camera to capture a few shots of Graham as he greeted guests.  


As the night carried on, a few people had begun to leave. Graham raised a glass before the party could wind down completely.   


“All, I’d like to propose a toast,” he began, a genuine smile across his lips, “to my Emma.”  


A smattering of applause arose from the crowd as Emma made her way to Graham, a champagne flute in-hand.   


“The future Mrs. Graham Humbert,” he continued, “and an amazing business partner as well, finally agreed to marry me after a torturous eight years of dating.”  


Everyone laughed and Emma grinned, nodding in agreement. “It’s true,” she remarked, “I can’t tell you how many business meetings popped up out of nowhere. How many clients we invited to our dinner tables. But it’s helped us become the top security firm in New York City.”  


More applause followed. Killian knelt in front of a few people, carefully angling his shot to catch the glint of light against the champagne glass in Graham’s hand. He focused carefully on Emma.  


Graham slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “To a lifetime more.” He said to her, much more quietly than before. He tapped his glass against hers before giving her a slow kiss.  


The crowd wolf-whistled and cheered, everyone clinking their glasses together. The shutter of Killian’s camera clicked quickly as his stomach twisted with that feeling again - one he was horrified to recognize as jealousy.  


\--  


For some reason, Emma was more nervous than ever. She wrung her hands quietly as she sat in the corner of a large dressing area. Elsa had disappeared to gather a tray of mimosas for the other bridesmaids, who were supposed to be on their way. In the silence, Emma’s mind swirled. Dress shopping. Buying a wedding gown would make it all so real. She was armed with a handful of dog-eared bridal magazines and suggestions from her fiance, but she had made it clear that she was going to make the final decision on at least this part.  


“There she is!” Ruby squealed as she entered the room, flinging her arms around Emma and squeezing her tightly.  


Emma laughed and returned the embrace. Ruby whispered in her ear, “Oh my God, I need to tell you about last night...but later.”  


With a nod, Emma thought about how her evening had concluded, when after the party, she had passed out in bed before Graham finished his last call with Los Angeles for the evening. All work and no play.  


Another three of Emma’s bridesmaids entered the room, followed by Elsa and Killian.  


“Your photographer looked a bit lost in the Bridal shop,” Elsa grinned, “I found him milling around the lobby.”  


“I’ll admit this isn’t my first time to this kind of place, but this one in particular seemed a bit of a maze,” he chuckled and pulled his bag off of his shoulder. “Ladies, please tell me if you feel uncomfortable with the photos at any time. I know this is an unusual place for professional photography.”  


“We will,” Ruby answered, licking her lips slowly. She grabbed a mimosa from the tray and took a sip before turning to Emma. “Right. Us, or you first?”  


“You,” Emma insisted, eager to stave off her nerves about selecting a gown for herself, “I’ve got a few things picked out for you all. You can each try one.”  


An assistant led them aside, helping each of the girls into their dresses. Killian turned to Emma, his gaze away from the undressing bridesmaids. “You had a lovely party last night. Did you enjoy yourself?”  


Emma nodded, cradling her mimosa, “I did. I was definitely worn out, after.” She laughed.  


“I can imagine. Lots of chatting,” he replied with a smile. “I um, I wanted to apologize for the inappropriate moment with Ruby at the party.”  


Her eyebrow raised slowly as she looked at him. “No worries. I didn’t mind. I’m sure it made for some...memorable shots.”  


“Aye, well, I’ll be leaving a few of them out of the file I hand over to Mr. Humbert,” he blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s, um, quite a girl, your Maid of Honor.”  


“I’m sure,” she muttered against her glass. Killian flushed and swallowed hard.  


“If you find it inappropriate of me to fraternize with your friends, I can absolutely put a stop to things,” he said after a deep breath. “Please, just let me know.”  


Before Emma had a chance to respond, Ruby stepped up in a soft purple gown, turning her back to Killian.  


“Could you make yourself useful and zip me?” she teased as she pulled her hair over one shoulder.   


Emma bit down on her lower lip, reserving comment. Killian seemed to be flustered as he reached forward, lifting the zipper from the top of Ruby’s pale pink thong, up her bare back. He finished the task a bit more quickly than Ruby intended, it seemed, and she turned to stick out her tongue at him.  


Swallowing hard, Emma forced a smile. “You’re an independent contractor, Mr. Jones,” she shrugged, “I think...what happens on your personal time is your business and I have no say over it.”  


With a silent nod, Killian stepped back and took a few chaste shots of Ruby and the other girls, modeling various gowns for Emma’s approval.   


Emma re-focused her attentions and took a few notes down on a scratch pad. “Ruby, Elsa, can you stand side-by-side?”  


The two girls did as asked, making silly model faces, voguing, and generally being ridiculous as Emma attempted to make a decision between their dresses. The silliness was a welcome distraction. Emma shook her head and laughed. “Okay, okay. Try the other ones.”  


Goofy modelling continued through the afternoon, until Emma had settled upon a reasonably-comfortable (per Elsa), non-frumpy (per Ruby), and quite pretty (per Emma) gown for her bridesmaids. An attendant approached her, grinning.  


“Alright, it’s the Bride’s turn!” The gaggle of women squealed and refilled their drinks in anticipation, squeezing together on the provided sofa.   


With a heavy sigh, Emma trudged into a dressing room with a team of attendants to squeeze into undergarments fit for a medieval peasant.  


\--  


Killian took the opportunity to adjust his lenses and eye the room for the best lighting, considering he was pretty sure the dress would be white, and therefore reflective.   


“Psst,” Ruby hissed to him, crooking her finger. She had taken a seat in a lone chair across from the girls on the sofa. Killian glanced up at her and raised an eyebrow. He sighed softly and moved toward her.   


“I don’t know if we should really be consorting while I’m on the clock,” he muttered to her, crouching next to her chair, “I don’t think Emma likes it.”  


Rolling her eyes, Ruby shook her head, “Yeah well, she’s gone a bit nutty with this whole thing. Listen, I’ll cut it out. But I wanted to see if you’d like to come by my place tonight. Netflix and chill?” She grinned wickedly and leaned closer to his ear, whispering covertly. Both of Killian’s eyebrows lifted and he cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his crouch.   


“Ah, we’ll see,” he nodded and stood once more, his ear having been thoroughly violated by Ruby’s filthy suggestion.  


The dressing room door opened and Emma emerged, swathed in what seemed like a hundred yards of lace. The gown had full sleeves and a high neck, with buttons completely down the back. The train was enormous, leading off of a full skirt. The bridesmaids all gasped in unison as she stepped to a three-way mirror, standing upon a pedestal. She examined herself for a moment, then wrinkled her nose. “No,” she muttered.  


“It’s so classic. But you look kinda...uncomfortable.”  


“A little old-fashioned, I think.”  


“Not you. Did Graham pick that one?”  


Emma nodded. The girls laughed and shook their heads.  


Killian chuckled and captured the expressions of her supporters, shuffling around the room to gather a variety of shots. The dress was a bit large for Emma’s svelte frame, and it was held together by orange work clamps in the back to get the front silhouette correct. Emma hurried off the pedestal and was ushered back into the dressing room to fight her way out of the first dress and into another.  


When she stepped out of the dressing room again, she was wearing a very simple gown of taffeta with a strapless sweetheart neckline. A belt wrapped around her waist, encrusted with white gems and pearls. The A-line skirt just barely skimmed the floor as she stood upon the pedestal. From his angle in the room, Killian simply watched as Emma’s face lit with glee. It was obvious to him that this dress was the one she wanted. He could tell she liked simple, elegant things. It was evident in her everyday dress, manner, and casual attitude. In combination with her expression, Killian was completely taken by her beauty. She turned in a slight silhouette and he snapped several photos, changing his own elevation to get a good shot of her in all of her glory.  


Ruby piped up first, “This...this is you.”  


Elsa nodded, “I can tell you love this one!”  


Emma turned slightly and got a look at the back of the gown. This one fit perfectly, without the need for clamps, “It is my favorite...but Graham didn’t like it very much in the photo.” Her smile had faded. Killian was glad he had managed a couple of shots before she slipped back into a sort of thoughtful disappointment.   


“I’ll try his favorite,” Emma muttered.   


The third gown was immense. The skirt was full of frilly curls of tulle. The bodice was tightly bound around her, beaded heavily with off-the-shoulder straps. Emma breathed deeply as she stepped onto the podium. Instead of reacting on her own, she raised an eyebrow to her bridesmaids. They were all quiet.   


Finally, “He likes _that_ one?” Elsa asked softly. She turned to Ruby, who wrinkled her nose.   


Emma looked back into the mirror and flipped some of the tulle with her fingers. “It’s...too big. Too much.”  


“Absolutely not!” the attendant cooed, moving quickly to Emma. She fussed a bit with her hair, then tucked a veil into a messy bunch at the nape of her neck. Emma breathed in deeply and looked at her bridal profile with skepticism.  


“Okay...definitely not this one,” she said finally, followed by agreement from her friends. “The second one?”   


“Yes!”   


Once everyone was re-dressed and amping up for a fancy lunch downtown, Killian packed up his camera and headed for the door. Ruby stopped him in the lobby and made brief conversation before returning to Emma’s side. Emma was busy completing the paperwork and handing over Graham’s black credit card as Ruby sauntered back up to her.  


“I need to thank you,” the tall brunette smiled as she leaned against the counter, “for hiring him.”  


“Hiring who?” Emma responded, aloof, as she signed off on the purchase.   


“Killian. You know, your photographer,” Ruby replied, “he’s so hot.”  


Emma laughed nervously and shook her head. “Rubes, for one thing, Graham hired him.”  


“Then, in a totally non-sexual way, I’ll have to thank Graham for the amazing fuck I got last night,” Ruby whispered with an air of conspiracy, grinning.  


Her jaw dropping slightly, Emma’s eyes widened. “I thought you were just flirting!”  


“We flirted! And then we...drank. And then we fooled around. And then we--” she wiggled her hands with emphasis, making a few obscene gestures.  


“Okay, I got it,” Emma took in a deep breath and clenched her jaw. She forced a polite smile to a giddy Ruby and turned back to the rest of the girls. “Lunch?”  



	3. Chapter 3

Three months into the planning process and Emma Swan was already completely wiped out. She felt overloaded with orders and deliveries and do-it-yourself wedding favors. At this point, she deeply regretted not hiring a wedding planner to do most of the work for her, but she’d considered it a personal challenge. Graham was generally busy with work, so why not throw herself into this particular project?  


The week had been taxing, and Emma was not only tired from a combination of work and wedding planning; she was sick. She had wanted to spend some time getting crazy with Ruby to blow off a bit of steam, but the girls’ night out was canceled when Emma’s sniffles and sinus pressure got out of control.  


Emma flipped through the offerings on Netflix, clicking past Action/Adventure and Drama, and cruising into the Romance section. On the rare night that Graham was able to sit still for two hours, they leaned toward a Jason Bourne-type flick. Tonight, he was out schmoozing with Japanese clients, and she was relegated to the sofa with a box of tissues and a steaming-hot mug of chicken soup.  


As she tapped her way through the romance section, her phone dinged. Emma raised it and opened the video she had been sent.  


Killian was singing his heart out on stage. Ruby had keenly placed a few heart-eyes emojis around him in the frame. With a laugh, Emma shook her head and replied with some text and a photo.   


_Looks like fun. And hearts? Are you telling me this is going past just screwing around?_ The photo she included was her best attempt at a slightly-less-than-miserable face.   


Message from Ruby: _He’s an 11 in bed, if you know what I mean. ;) But he seems like something’s holding him back from considering it a relationship. Might be your wedding, but not worried. I’m here to have a good time, and so is he. He’s just fucking gorgeous._  


Emma was unable to disagree. She had noticed it the first time she met him. His deep blue eyes were quite alluring. If she hadn’t been an engaged woman...well, she would not have a wedding photographer, so that was just a silly thing to think. She groaned to think about him being good in bed. If he could please Ruby, he could please anyone. And if she was being honest with herself, she hadn’t been properly _pleased_ in months. The spark had gone out of her love life with Graham. In the past, the fire was hot and it burned quite often. But now there was...nothing. And she was committing herself to a lifetime of nothing.  


_Enjoy!_ She sent back to her friend before tossing the phone on the table and cuddling down into the pillows on the sofa.  


\--  


Registry day. Emma was armed with a scanner-gun-thingy and a list of items she wanted from the high-end boutique. Graham was at her side, thumbing texts into his phone and half-heartedly paying attention to her ramblings about china patterns.  


“I think the blue on that one clashes with our carpet. I mean, the pattern itself is nice, but the color is all wrong. Why don’t we do like...all white, or something?” Emma turned over a bone china serving platter and examined its size.   


“You’re right,” Graham muttered. He tapped a few more words into the phone as Emma went silent and stared across the section. The photographer had just arrived. Killian was hurrying past a stack of over-priced bathroom towels. He smiled at Emma. She felt her stomach do a little flip and swallowed hard, pushing the feelings away.  


“Hey, there he is,” Emma grinned.   


“Seriously, I’m never taking an Uber again in this city. All Yellow Cabs for me,” Killian chuckled. “Sorry, guys.”  


“No, it’s fine. We haven’t really done much,” Graham muttered. He looked up from his phone and finally tucked it into his pocket. “And yeah, I do Yellow. Uber seems...difficult in the city.”  


“Indeed,” Killian pulled his camera strap around his neck and lifted it. “Scan away.”  


Graham reached for the scanner, taking it out of Emma’s hands. She blinked and watched as he slid around the display, scanning six barcodes without stopping to ask for her opinion.  


“Uh,” Emma jumped into his path and held up her hands, “Easy cowboy. Remember, there’s like...stuff we actually need and stuff we don’t. Like those.”  


She pointed to a set of fancy, battery-operated, chrome plated salt and pepper shakers that her fiance had just scanned. Graham pursed his lips and looked back at his fiancee.  


“What do you mean? I like those.”  


“They’re stupid,” Emma sighed. “We have salt and pepper shakers already. They’re very nice.”  


“Yeah,” Graham wrinkled his nose, “but I mean the whole point of getting married is so people buy you stuff, right? So why not register for newer, cooler ones?”  


Emma’s gaze narrowed and Graham physically stepped backward. “Okay, so not the _whole_ point, but...why not?”  


“We don’t need them,” she reiterated, placing her hands on her hips. Killian stood by silently, glancing around the store as if he wasn’t hearing them disagreeing _again_. “And maybe try asking my opinion before you just...scan everything?” “Emma,” Graham laughed, “they’re gifts. Just let me scan. Okay? We’ll take back what we don’t want or need. But I want the salt and pepper shakers.”  


“Fine. Then I’m getting the all-white China,” Emma conceded, sighing.  


Graham halted and cocked his head to the side. “We have dishes. We don’t really need more dishes. They’re good dishes. My Mum sent them from Ireland. Remember? The one broke and we had to get it replaced and it took bloody _ages_ …”  


“Let me get this straight, if we have a perfectly good set of something we shouldn’t replace it, unless _you_ want it?” Emma’s eyebrow cocked. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Killian grimace, trying to hide it behind his camera.  


“Don’t start,” Graham grumbled and pushed past her. “Just scan things, okay?”  


Emma found the scanner shoved back into her hand. Graham meandered away, pulling out his phone once more. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath and tried desperately to control her temper, feeling it rising up her body.   


“I think they’re stupid, too,” Killian finally chimed in, “for what it’s worth.”  


“The plates?”  


“Nah, the salt and pepper shakers,” he smirked and snapped a photo of the set. “I’ll file them with ‘ugly things’.”  


Emma laughed, shaking her head. He had a way of being able to erase her tension. She nodded and moved to the china set she had been eyeing. With a particular flourish to her movements, she scanned the item, then winked at the photographer. _Snap_. Brilliant.  


\--  


Another few weeks passed, and Killian spent his time between his place, Ruby’s place, and working a few one-off shoots for publications or private customers. His next appointment for the Humbert wedding was at Graham and Emma’s apartment, where invitations were to be addressed. Graham had assured him it would be just a few photos, and then he could leave, as there was bound to be nothing too exciting about writing addresses.  


Finishing off a coffee, Killian knocked firmly on the door to Graham’s apartment. When the door opened, the last thing he expected was exactly what he got.  


Emma answered, a glass of wine in one hand. She was in sweats and a baggy t-shirt, and she looked irritated.  


“Hey,” she sighed, shifting her weight, “I’m thinking maybe we should do this another time. Graham got called out on a meeting...and...we had kind of a fight about it. I’m not in the best…”  


“I can focus on your hands, if you like? And...listen?” Killian shrugged, offering a friendly smile. “Not as your photographer, but...as an open ear? A friend? Or I can bugger off, either way.”  


Considering it, Emma gave a nod and stepped back to allow him into the apartment. She closed the door behind him and shuffled to the coffee table, where piles upon piles of laser-cut gold lace invitations were waiting for her.   


“I took calligraphy classes to learn this stuff,” Emma said with a bemused laugh. She shook her head, “I mean, I’ve always got time, right?”  


Taking a seat across from her, Killian moved the chair slightly closer and put his camera bag aside. “They’re beautiful.”  


She nodded and took in a shaky breath. “They never end. The meetings and the calls...It’s like I’m this person with all of these friends and this loving fiance, and...I’m lonely.”  


Killian folded his hands and licked his lips before taking a deep breath, himself. “Have you talked to him about it?”  


“Yep,” Emma nodded, finishing off her glass of wine before standing, “talking about it is why my mascara is running and I’m day-drinking. Want some?” She wiggled the empty glass in his direction.  


“Not on the clock, thanks,” he adjusted the focus on one of his cameras, snapping off a few photos of the invites themselves.  


“I’m your boss. You’re allowed to have a drink if I say so,” Emma insisted. “Or are you a beer kinda guy? Because I’ve got some of that, too.”  


With a soft chuckle, Killian nodded. “I’ll have a beer then, thanks.”  


Emma returned a few moments later and placed a cold bottle on the table in front of him. Her glass was very full of a deep red wine. She wiggled her fingers before picking up a pen from the table. “So how are things with Ruby?”  


Killian stammered slightly and cleared his throat. “I don’t...I don’t think talking about Ruby and I is going to help…”  


“I mean, I know most of it,” she laughed bitterly and shook her head, “you guys are fucking like bunnies.”  


He paused with his beer halfway to his lips and swallowed hard, then took a swig from the bottle. Clearly, Emma had been drinking for a while. She was right, though. Ruby had an appetite, and she could make him forget about Milah for a few hours at a time. She served a purpose.  


“C-can you maybe shift to the left a little?” He put the bottle down and picked up his camera, snapping off a couple of shots of her writing.  


“She brags about you,” Emma continued. She glanced up at him. For the first time, he noticed how red and watery her eyes were. She was hurting, and it was bad.   


“Emma,” he sighed, putting the camera down. “Stop.”  


She paused, then dropped the pen. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, covering her face with her hands. “I’m losing it.”  


He knew better. He knew he shouldn’t be involved in their personal problems. But there was no way this wedding would be a success if Emma fell to pieces. He pulled the camera from around his neck and moved closer to her. “Come here,” he whispered.  


Emma leaned sideways. She fell against his chest. Killian wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him. Right now, she needed a hug, and he was the only person who could offer that to her. “Will it help if I tell you a story?”  


With a sniffle, Emma shrugged. So he began.  


“Once upon a time, a young lad from England came to the United States to find himself,” he said with a soft smile, “and when he came here, he met a beautiful woman named Milah.”   


Emma turned her head to look up at him slightly, her brows furrowed. Apparently, she had not expected to hear about an ex.  


“He married Milah. She was fun and exciting and she had all of the joy he knew he needed in life. They moved onto a boat and made a home for themselves. The lad started taking photos of people, and they made a nice life. Milah loved his photos. She also loved his music. They were passionate and crazy and young and stupid but they did it all together,” he said, his voice steady.  


Emma relaxed a bit in his arms.   


“One day, Milah came home from work. Her body language was...it was all wrong. The lad wondered if maybe he’d done something wrong, as you know, lads do,” he smirked slightly. “But she told him she’d met someone else. And she wanted a divorce.”  


This time, Emma sat up and pulled out of his embrace. She gazed at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his.   


“So the lad gave her the divorce, and she married...someone else. And now he takes photos of other people when they get married,” he shrugged. “But she still haunts him. Every day.”  


“Killian,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I had no idea. How can...how can you take photos of weddings when your own marriage fell apart?”  


He chuckled. “It didn’t fall apart. It abruptly exploded. Because there were apparently things we didn’t say to each other.”  


She reached up and rubbed at her cheek, pushing away tears. “So the moral of the story is...I need to talk to him or I’m going to lose it all.”  


Killian thought for a moment. He licked his lips and drew in a deep breath. “Yes. You need to be clear about what you want, and what you don’t. For us, I wanted kids. Milah did not. She wanted success and she wanted money. A struggling photographer and musician who lives on a boat is hardly a suitable husband for that kind of woman.”  


Emma was pensive. She reached over and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Killian paused, then wrapped his arms around her in return. “I think you guys will be okay,” he said, his voice calm. “You’ve been together a long time, and you can work it out. I know it.”  


“Thank you,” Emma breathed. She pulled back and smiled. “Ruby’s lucky to have a guy like you.”  


He chuckled. “Nah, Graham is the lucky one.”  


The lock to the front door beeped and opened. Graham, looking disheveled and a little put out, stepped inside. He paused as he saw Killian.   


“Oh shit, I forgot all about the invitation photos,” he muttered, scrubbing his face with his hand.   


“No worries, mate,” Killian stuffed his camera into his bag and stood. He gestured to the spot next to Emma. “I got a few shots. I think, um, I think I’m all set.”  


Graham offered his hand and forced a smile. Killian shook it firmly. “Thank you, then. We’ll see you in a few weeks.”  


“Aye, sounds good,” Killian turned back to Emma and raised an eyebrow. “Have a good night then, Miss Swan.”  


He stepped out of the apartment door and closed it behind him. Emma was officially closer to him than Ruby had been in the past few weeks. Ruby was a romp in the sheets. Emma...Emma made his heart flutter and his stomach twist. But she wasn’t his. She couldn’t _be_ his. And he would never do anything to pull her away from Graham. Not ever.  


\--  


“You’ve got yourself in a right state,” Liam Jones smirked and shoved another pint across the bar top. Killian exchanged the full glass with his empty and nodded.   


“After Milah, I’d never...ever think about a woman who was married to someone else. But...what if...I think they’re not right for each other?” He drew in a deep breath. “Do I say something?”  


“Do you want to get paid?” Liam raised an eyebrow and wiped his hands on a towel. He threw the cloth over his shoulder and leaned forward. The Sailor’s Inn, the bar he owned and operated near the Jersey side of the George Washington Bridge, was dead this time of night.   


“Of course,” Killian sighed. “But is it the right thing to do? Get paid and bugger off and leave her to a lifetime of disappointment and misery?”  


Liam shook his head, “Remember, you’re only seeing a snippet of their lives together, and it happens to be a pretty busy and stressful time. There has to be a reason she agreed to marry him.”  


“They’ve been together for eight years,” Killian muttered into his glass before taking a swig.  


Gesturing with wide open hands, Liam shrugged. “Again, gotta be a reason.”  


Killian nodded in agreement.   


“Tell me about this Ruby girl,” Liam stood and moved to pour himself a beer. He flipped the switch beneath the counter which turned off the neon ‘Open’ sign near the door.  


The younger brother Jones pursed his lips. “She’s hot. Insatiable. But...again, not...what I’m looking for. I think I’m gonna put an end to it. Just hope she’s not crazy enough to fuck up the wedding.”  


“Want to kick her my number?”   


Killian leaned his head to the side and gave Liam a look of annoyance. “You want my seconds? Sure. I thought you were seeing that girl from Jersey City.”  


“Nah,” Liam shook his head, “didn’t work out. Besides, you know I’m more into blondes.”  


“Then Ruby is not for you,” Killian smirked. “There is a really beautiful blonde bridesmaid, though. Elsa. No ring.”  


“Yeah?” The older man grinned and laughed. “Probably not a chance. These are rich girls, eh?”  


After Killian’s divorce, Liam had left his home in England and joined his younger brother in the States. Liam was undoubtedly more successful, but he was more of a working-class type of man than most girls wanted. At 35, Liam had all but given up on finding ‘The One’.  


“I don’t know, mate. I think I need a change of scenery after I’m done with this gig. Fancy a trip to Boston?” Killian finished off his pint.   


“I, uh, I don’t think that’s such a good plan,” Liam spoke slowly. He was obviously searching for a decent explanation, outside of the truth.  


Killian’s gaze narrowed. “Why?”  


With a heavy sigh, Liam turned to the back of the bar. He grabbed a tabloid and tossed it to land in front of his brother.  


The front page of the supermarket rag was plastered with photos of some Kardashian or another. Killian’s brow raised. Liam flipped open to the middle of the magazine, where a blazing red headline and an accompanying photo made his gut clench.   


Billionaire Robert Gold Separates from Wife

  


New Ex Milah Jets to Boston

  


The photo was of Milah, caked in thick makeup, holding her hand up to fight off the oppressive flashes of the paparazzi. She and her husband Robert were not necessarily of the socialite kind, but Milah knew what she was doing when she left Killian. She had married a man of political and social influence for his money. And now, it seemed, they had separated. Killian wondered exactly why.  


“I probably shouldn’t have shown you,” Liam said calmly, taking a sip from his beer. “But I didn’t want you to run into her.”  


“No, it’s fine,” Killian reassured him. He pushed the magazine away and shook his head. “She’s his problem now, not mine.”  


“Atta lad,” Liam poured his brother another pint and an accompanying shot of bourbon. “Let’s get pissed and forget about the women for the night, eh?”  


\-- He believed the proper nautical term for his condition was ‘Three Sheets to the Wind’. Roger walked alongside him as Killian meandered down the road to the docks, singing loudly to himself. His companion had a strange sense about him, wherein he usually walked on the water’s edge as if to keep Killian from stumbling into the sea.   


Killian pulled his phone from his pocket and thumbed through his contacts. He paused on the docks. Roger whined and nudged him with his nose. The dog couldn’t possibly be warning him against drunk texting, could he? Nah, he was probably hungry.  


_Did he apologize?_  


He clicked send. Only then did he notice that it was 3am.   


“Oops,” he muttered, continuing down the docks toward his rinky-dink houseboat.  


His phone pinged. Blinking, he paused again and looked at it.  


Message from Emma Swan: _Yes. I think you helped a lot. We really talked for the first time in a long time. He even avoided answering a call in the middle of our discussion. You might have saved this marriage. Thank you._  


Drawing in a deep breath, he paused and leaned against a light pole. Fantastic. He was the ‘troubled couple whisperer’. The phone pinged again.  


Message from Emma Swan: _Tell Ruby I said hi._  


He frowned and thumbed a message back to her.   


_No Ruby here. Just me and Roger._  


No response, so he tucked his phone into his pants and wandered back onto his boat, the ‘Jewel’. Once on board, he kicked off his shoes and fed Roger before collapsing onto the bed. He was going to be so hungover in the morning. It also would be a miracle if the spinning sensations stopped anytime soon. He tried the trick of placing one foot flat on the floor. No dice.  


His phone pinged.  


Message from Emma Swan: _Oops. Um, I guess you’re not exclusive then. She said she had a date._  


Killian laughed and shook his head. Not surprising.   


_I had a date with my brother. And Roger. We drank a lot._  


_I mean Rog didn’t. But I did. Hence the timing of these texts._  


_Sorry._  


Message from Emma Swan: _No worries. I like hearing from you. I think we’ll be good friends, after the wedding’s over._  


Friends. He wasn’t sure he could handle being friends with Emma Swan...Emma Humbert. With her sexy smile and incredible ass and the way she had access to incredible finery but loved the simple things in life. Not if she belonged to another man. He wouldn’t tempt fate like that. He would NOT be Robert Gold.  


Message from Emma Swan: _Anyway. Goodnight._  


“Goodnight,” he muttered aloud.   


\--  


Emma felt Graham’s bare chest press against her back. She placed her phone down on the nightstand and sunk back against him. He muttered groggily.   


“Who you talkin’ to?”  


Emma shook her head. “Wedding plans.”  


“At three o’clock in the mornin’?” He placed a kiss between her shoulders. “Relax. It can wait. C’mere.”  


She turned to face him and gave him a kiss. It felt...hollow. There was nothing there. No longer did she have a spark when it came to Graham. Even when they did make love that night, it was more...out of obligation than desire. Something was off. Maybe it was the wedding. Maybe it was his constant need to do and be the best, despite what she actually needed. Or maybe…  


She drew in a breath. “Sorry to wake you. Go back to sleep.”  


But he already was. She received a soft snore in reply.   



	4. Chapter 4

Another week, another event. Emma walked slowly through the bakery they had chosen purely from photographs. She checked her watch just as the bell rang at the front door. Turning, she found Killian entering the small space, offering a sheepish smile.  


“I’m so sorry about the drunk texts,” he laughed. “Not very professional of me.”  


“Neither was the hug, but I’m not complaining about either,” Emma winked. He was dressed in a pair of jeans that really, really hugged his slim figure. The grey t-shirt, blue checked shirt, and black zip-up hoodie combination also worked well for him. She swallowed hard and turned back to the case. “So, cake.”  


“Cake,” he repeated, leaning in to look at a few things inside. He pulled his camera from the case and snapped a few shots of the bakery itself. The doorbell rang again and Graham stepped inside.   


“Hey,” Graham grinned and offered his hand to Killian, “there he is. Our photographer-slash-relationship counselor.”  


Emma gave Graham a warning look, but Killian chuckled and shook Graham’s hand. “I do what I can, man.” The photographer smiled broadly.  


A woman emerged from the back and offered her hand. “Regina Mills, Mills Bakery. Thank you for choosing us for your cake needs!”  


“Ah, Ms. Mills,” Graham stepped forward and shook her hand, “Graham Humbert. This is Emma Swan, my fiancee, and this is our wedding photographer. He’s here to capture a few shots of the cake tasting.”  


“That’s a first, but I like it!” Regina shook hands all around before grabbing a tray off of the top of the display case. She settled it onto a table in the corner and sat down on one side of the table. Emma and Graham sat on the opposite side.  


“First, we have your traditional white cake. It’s got a hint of almond in it, and there’s a white buttercream frosting for the filling. Very popular. Then there’s a standard chocolate. I put a peanut butter filling in this one, so if you don’t like peanut butter, just avoid the middle,” she pointed to the various samples on the platter. Some were standard, and others were more along the lines of a frilly, fancy kind. Emma had an idea of what Graham would choose.  


“Well, I know Emma loves Nutella. What about this one with the hazelnut in the middle?” Graham asked, lifting a bite of it to his fiancee’s lips.  


Emma lifted an eyebrow in surprise and leaned forward to take a bite of the cake. She chewed, lost in thought for a moment. “Well, yes, but not everyone likes hazelnuts. Killian? Hazelnuts?”  


Killian made a face, causing her to laugh. “See? Not popular.”  


Graham chuckled. “Okay, okay. So maybe a standard chocolate with...white filling? For the bottom layer? Simple?”  


“I think that’s good,” Emma smiled and leaned a little closer to Graham. She slid her hand into his and squeezed. He glanced over at her.   


“What?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.  


“Nothing,” she mused, “just...thank you for listening.”  


“Of course,” Graham leaned in and kissed her on the temple.  


\--  


Killian snapped photos of the cake samples, the bakery itself, the woman in charge of the place...anything to avoid watching Emma be lovey-dovey with Graham. Apparently, he was really good at fixing things. Of course. The sooner the wedding was over, the better. He had to get away from this. Never before had he had any issues with falling for a bride. He had been in the photography game for awhile, and the subjects never seemed to faze him. But now, Emma. She was special. He took in a deep breath and forced a smile at the couple as he snapped their photos.  


“Well, I think that’s good for me,” he smiled awkwardly and tucked his camera away. “I think next time I see you is…”  


“Thursday,” Graham said with a smile, “we’re picking up our wedding bands and trying them on. Tiffany’s on 5th.”  


“Got it,” Killian nodded and slung his camera bag over his shoulder. “See you then.”  


As he left the bakery, Killian released a deep breath. He stood on the sidewalk and glanced in either direction, trying to decide which way to go. His phone buzzed in his pocket.  


Message from Ruby Lucas: _Hey wyd?_  


He considered his options for a moment. This was definitely a booty call. Maybe it would help a little, if he tried to take his mind off of Emma. He answered.  


_Nothing. Fancy a drink?_  


Message from Ruby Lucas: _I fancy a fuck._  


She was nothing if not concise. He sighed.  


_Your place or mine, love?_  


\--  


It didn’t work. It absolutely did not work. And Ruby could tell.   


Tugging his jeans back onto his waist, he buttoned the fly and reached for his shirt, a chain dangling down onto his hirsute chest. He turned, pulling the grey t-shirt over his head. How could he possibly tell her that he wasn’t interested in seeing her anymore? _I’m in love with your best friend who is in love with someone else_ is not a great way to end a relationship. Even if it wasn’t really much of a relationship.  


Stretching her arms above her head, Ruby turned onto her side. She licked her lips, kiss-swollen and pink. “Hey, um, I’m kinda seeing someone else as well. Do you...have a problem with that?”  


Killian thought about lying his way out of this. “I don’t, no. But...if you’re more into him, I say go for it. Not that this isn’t a good time.” He gestured between them. “I just...no connection, you know?”  


She released a heavy breath and laughed, pulling her lavender bed sheets tighter around her chest. “Oh my God, I’m so relieved. Like, this is hot and all, but I feel like maybe it’s time I started looking around for something permanent. And we’re not…”  


“No,” Killian agreed with a laugh. “Not at all. But hey, thanks.”  


“No problem,” Ruby grinned. “I enjoyed myself. Hope you did, too.”  


He left her apartment, slinging his camera bag over his shoulder. Great. Now he was in love with a woman he couldn’t have _and_ he had no fuck buddy.   


\--  


Days passed. Killian scrolled through photos on the computer he used for editing. Flashes of assorted foliage and snow flicked past the screen as he looked for the right shot. His phone buzzed beside him. Blindly, he reached for the phone and slid to accept the call on speakerphone.  


“Yeah?” He asked, moving his hand back to the mouse. Where was the damn shot of the fountain he had taken during the snowstorm? He wanted to edit it before having it printed.  


“...Killian?” Emma sniffled on the other end of the line.  


He immediately grabbed the phone and lifted it to his ear. “Emma? What’s wrong?”  


“Can you meet me? I’m at home. I...I don’t really want to go out. Um, and Ruby’s busy and I need to talk,” she drew in a deep, shaky breath.  


“I’ll be there in ten,” he assured her before grabbing his coat.  


\--  


Stupid, stupid, stupid. She knew it was too good to be true. Emma had thought Graham was turning over a new leaf. He was spending more time with her and less on the phone. He ignored a handful of calls in her presence (a miracle) and even took a day off of work to spend with her. It was incredible how attentive and perfect he was being.   


She opened the door the second he knocked and stepped back. “Hey,” she muttered, rubbing at her cheeks. She was sure she looked a horrible mess, having been sobbing for the last hour. “I hope you didn’t bring your camera.”  


“I promise, no cameras,” Killian gave a slight smile and stepped inside the apartment. “What’s happened?”  


Emma shuffled back to her sofa, adjusting a pile of tissues on the round coffee table in front of her. She gestured to a spot nearby for Killian to sit. “He’s going to China like...two weeks before the wedding. Why can’t he just put this off? Why is it so goddamned important that he go to China right then? He even said we might have to postpone our honeymoon because of an account he wants to snag.”  


“Jesus,” Killian breathed. He shook his head and sat slowly, rubbing at the tops of his thighs. “And I guess you probably told him your thoughts on that.”  


“Yeah,” she nodded, then shook her head and laughed bitterly through a few more tears that fell, “I got told that I’m being selfish and controlling and there’s no need for me to throw a tantrum. ‘This is our future, Emma! This is what things are going to be like from now on!’”  


She thought of herself spending her life trapped in their penthouse, binge-watching Netflix and ordering takeout while her friends enjoyed their lives on the streets of Manhattan. It would have been one thing, had she not been alone. But if Graham was determined to abandon her like this on the regular, things just wouldn’t work out. They all knew it. Except Graham.  


“And so you’re panicking,” Killian noted. He picked up the box of tissues and held it up for her. “You don’t know if you want to go through with this?”  


Emma nodded and took a tissue, burying her face into it before she blew her nose.   


He seemed to hesitate before asking, “Is there any other reason you...might reconsider marrying Graham? Or just the distance thing?”  


She stared at the carpet for a moment and simply breathed. Well, there was the fact that she may or may not find Killian himself to be the kind of man she wanted Graham to be. He was always there for her. He could make her laugh when she was down. He dropped absolutely everything to be at her side when she was emotionally compromised. What kind of man, who was merely hired to take photos, would do such a thing for a woman? She looked up at him, staring into those pale blue eyes. He raised an eyebrow and gazed back at her, unmoving.   


She swallowed hard. “No, I don’t...I don’t think so…”  


Killian nodded and turned his gaze to the floor for a moment, then looked back up at her. “Then maybe just talk about it some more. Explain to him how his travel makes you feel. And tell him that you...want to go along with him, or something. You guys can jetset all over the world together. It’ll be an adventure.”  


“It would be all work and no play,” Emma moaned, throwing herself dramatically against the back of the sofa. “I know him well enough to see that. He’d buy me things and set me up in luxury suites, but then he’d just...disappear.”  


She glanced at Killian, who looked down at his folded hands. He wiggled his fingers slightly, obviously lost in thought. Maybe she had taxed him out. Why did she think she could just call on this guy and ask him for all of the answers? Because he was a man?   


“This is so unfair of me,” she said finally. “Killian, I’m so sorry to drag you out to Manhattan and whine at you.”  


“Hey,” he chuckled, “I had nothing else to do tonight. It’s cool. Just make sure he doesn’t brush you off. Get what you want. What Emma Swan wants. Tell him and don’t hold back.”  


“I heard you and Ruby called it quits,” Emma sniffled and gave him a bit of a frown. “I’m sorry.”  


Killian shook his head, “We were both adults about it, so things are fine. Just agreed that we don’t really click, you know? You should click with someone.”  


Emma nodded slowly. She spoke before her brain could catch up with her mouth. “Like we do.”  


He blinked, staring at her. “Y-you mean...you should be friends. Like we are?”  


Her mouth fell open as she realized what she had said. She took in a deep breath and quickly bit on her lower lip. She _clicked_ with Killian. She wanted his opinion and she needed his comfort and she loved it when he was around and...oh. “Right, that’s...that’s what I meant. Click like good friends.”  


His nod was hesitant, but Killian managed to smile. “I um, I think you should probably get some rest and have a chat with Graham when he gets home. If anything changes about tomorrow, let me know.”  


“Tomorrow?” She shook her head, the week’s schedule blown out of her memory by her incredible slip of the tongue.   


“Tiffany’s. 10am. You two are picking up your wedding bands?” He continued to smile as he nudged her. “I thought you were on top of this.”  


Emma laughed and shook her head. “Sorry, I think I’m tired.” She ran a hand through her messy hair and sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”  


\--  


For once, Killian was early. He stood outside of the world-famous Tiffany’s store on 5th Avenue, polishing one of his lenses with a microfiber cloth. He attached it to the camera and stuck the pieces back into his shoulder bag. Checking his watch, he sighed. Emma and Graham were typically punctual. Maybe he had gotten a call or had a meeting run late. That certainly wouldn’t help things, as they had been going. He leaned against the granite exterior of the store and stared at the sidewalk. Had Emma confessed something, inadvertently, last night? Sure, they did ‘click’ as friends, but what about...more than that? His head was swimming. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he sighed and checked his watch once more. 10:10am.   


“Hey, sorry,” Emma jogged up to him with a slight smile, “I decided to walk here, and...that was not a great idea.”  


Looking up, he smiled and drank in the sight of her. She wore a very casual outfit - a raglan long-sleeved t-shirt, jeans with a rip in the knee, her hair in a high ponytail. But Killian had almost never seen her look so beautiful. Her eyes were bright and her smile was broad. There was something different about her today. Perhaps she had worked things out with Graham again.   


“No worries,” he replied, glancing around. “Where’s Graham?”  


She drew in a deep breath. “Not coming,” she said with an exhale, “he had a meeting pop up, and so I let him beg off of this one. I mean, it doesn’t really take both of us to pick up our rings, does it?”  


“I suppose not,” Killian smiled and pulled open one of the massive glass doors.   


As they stepped inside, he took a look around the massive store. It was iconic, even since before the 1961 film _Breakfast at Tiffany’s_. He walked past a large display of ornate plates and silver cups, and another of gold-plated baby rattles. Shaking his head, he followed Emma to a glittering counter.  


“Hi,” she smiled to the girl behind the counter. The young woman looked a bit skeptical of the pair, each of them dressed pretty casually. “I’m here to pick up an order for Humbert.”  


The girl looked Emma over. “Do you have an ID?”  


Emma shot Killian a look of annoyance as she pulled her identification from her handbag. He smirked in reply. The girl took her info to the back and Emma leaned against the counter, turning to her photographer.  


“We talked last night,” she finally admitted, “Graham and I. He says life is going to be a little bit nuts, but he wants to shoot for selling the company in a few years. Then we can just...be happy. So I think maybe I can live with all of this...junk...for a while.”  


“That’s good,” Killian forced a smile, “I just want you to be happy, Emma. You deserve it.” His stomach twisted with regret. He wanted to be the one to make her happy. But how could he ever compete with Graham? His eyes wandered to the gigantic sparkler on her left hand.  


He recalled being so very nervous when he picked out a ring for Milah. Liam lived in London at the time. The phone bills had been incredible as Killian walked through every jewelry store he could find, consulting with his brother on the phone and driving the clerks mad. Nothing seemed right. When he was finally able to find a larger stone, knowing Milah’s preference for them, she still seemed slightly disappointed in the ring when he proposed. He would never forget that look on her face. He should have seen it as a sign of what was to come, in hindsight.  


“Here we are!” The clerk seemed much more chipper as she brought out two of the famous Tiffany Blue boxes. He guessed she was impressed with the price paid, per the receipt. She placed the boxes on the counter and slid Emma’s identification back to her. “Now, make sure you try them on.”  


Emma opened a box and Killian fumbled a bit with his camera bag, pulling out the device. Inside was a black, velvet box. She opened it to reveal Graham’s band. It was a simple platinum band, thick enough to look at home on a man’s hand. He snapped a few photos of her holding it. He raised the camera to capture her expression and paused.   


There were tears in Emma’s eyes. Her chest heaved slightly as she drew in deep breaths. He slowly placed the camera on the counter. “Emma?”  


“Left hand, please?” The clerk wiggled her open hand at Killian, gesturing toward Emma.  


“Oh,” both Emma and Killian spoke and then laughed.  


“It’s not...I’m not,” Killian stammered. He cleared his throat.  


“My fiance isn’t here,” Emma corrected the woman.   


“Oh, well do they have the same-sized hands?” The clerk asked, raising an eyebrow at them.   


Emma’s gaze moved to Killian’s hand, which he tucked quickly into his pocket. “Nah, I think his are a bit bigger than mine.”  


“Doubtful,” Emma huffed, “he’s got pretty small hands.”  


“Well, bring it back if it doesn’t work,” the clerk interjected. She took the liberty of opening the other box and handed the sparkling band within to Killian. “At least see if he will have any trouble pushing this onto her hand.”  


Killian doubted whether he had ever held something so expensive. The ring was completely encrusted with large diamonds. Each one of them larger than the measly solitaire he had given Milah. Reaching with his left, he took Emma’s hand into his own. He placed the ring over the tip of her finger and slid it toward her body. There was slight hesitation over her knuckle, but then it slid into place, glittering alongside her massive engagement ring. His grip remained on her hand as he looked up to Emma, who was already staring back at him. They held hands, locked in each others’ gaze for an intense moment.  


“It fits,” she muttered, her pale green eyes accented by redness from the tears welling in them.   


He nodded and dropped her hand, moving to pick up his camera once more. He took a few pictures of the ring on her hand, his heart pounding in his ears. Why, why did that stupid clerk have to be so damn pushy? Way to make an already-awkward situation worse.   


“Looks like we’re all set, then,” the clerk grinned and handed over a bit of paperwork. “Best of luck to you, Ms. Swan.”  


“Thank you,” Emma choked out, boxing everything back up. She hastily removed the band from her own finger and shoved it into the box. She hurried the blue boxes into the tiny bag she was provided and made her way to the door.  


With a brief muttering of thanks, Killian turned and followed her, remaining a safe distance behind Emma as he packed his camera away. Outside, he watched her stop and scrub at her face with her hand.   


“You alright?” He asked quietly, stepping up beside her.   


She took a moment to breathe before turning to him. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “It’s so real, now. It’s...it’s happening.”  


“Aye, it is,” Killian nodded.  


“And I can’t…” she closed her eyes and swallowed hard. She pulled him away from the flow of foot traffic on the sidewalk and shifted her weight.   


He stepped back with her, waiting for her to continue.   


“Have you ever met someone who changed your life in just...a really short amount of time?”  


He stared into her eyes and simply nodded. He wouldn’t make any assumptions. But he thought maybe he knew exactly what she meant. Or maybe he hoped he knew what she meant.  


“When I got together with Graham, it...just happened. We were working side-by-side and spending all of our time together and we just fell into a relationship. And then years had passed. And then it was eight years before I even knew it. And because it was familiar, because it was how things had just...existed for so long, I said yes to his proposal,” she closed her eyes, “and now, I’m wondering if I should have. What have I missed? What did I not experience? Who...who out there...might have been better for me?”  


As she opened her eyes, Killian stared back at her. “Emma…”  


In that moment, Emma’s phone trilled in her pocket.   


She let it ring for a moment, then tugged it free and swiped it. “Hi,” she sighed into the phone, pressing her palm against her forehead and closing her eyes again, “yeah, I got them. Is your meeting over?”  


Taking a step back, Killian shoved his hands into his pockets. He stared at the concrete beneath his worn sneakers, doing his best to ignore Emma’s conversation with her fiance.   


“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll be home soon,” she pressed a button on the phone and sighed once more. “I had better go.”  


“Sure, yeah,” he nodded and forced a smile. “I guess...I’ll see you in a week. For your bachelorette.”  


“Right,” Emma nodded, “Hey, could you bring a friend or two? We’ll take a few pictures, but then you and whoever are good to hang out with us for the night. The more the merrier, right?”  


“I’ll see who I can wrangle into it,” he smiled and turned, trudging back down the street toward the steps of the subway station.  


She hadn’t come out and said it, directly, but Killian knew there was something between them. His stomach twisted and his heart pounded every time he was around her. Maybe it was just puppy love, but it felt like so much more. And just like with his first love, he’d be losing her to a rich man.   



	5. Chapter 5

“I can’t believe I’m letting you talk me into this,” Liam Jones muttered, fixing his collar as he stared into the mirror. He was dressed in a grey button-down and a pair of jeans. With a heavy sigh, he turned to his younger brother and held out his arms. “Acceptable?”  


Killian nodded and ran a hand through his hair. He was not quite dressed, but was getting there. Tonight was Emma’s bachelorette party. It was difficult to think that she was having this party when she wasn’t even totally sure about Graham. He dabbed on a bit of cologne and turned to grab his own shirt, a heather blue v-neck tee. He pulled it over his head and fussed with his hair a second more.  


“Killian,” Liam began, leaning against the door frame in his brother’s small bedroom, “you don’t think she’s actually going to leave this guy for you, do you? She’s still going on with everything.”  


He stayed silent for a moment, rather than answer. Turning, he pressed his lips together in thought. “I want her to be happy. If she’s happy with him then so be it. If she can’t take it anymore with him, I...I want to be there for her. I want to be the one she comes to.”  


Liam shook his head. “This is a recipe for disaster. How do you pick these damaged women?”  


“I can’t help it,” Killian groaned. “They’re drawn to me, it seems.”  


“Damage begets damage,” Liam muttered and picked up his wallet. “You ready?”  


\--  


Emma looked up from her eyeshadow palette, sweeping some smoky grey across her lash line. “Is this going to be awkward for you?” She asked as she dolled herself up for a night of partying.  


Ruby shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “Nah, he was cool about it. I think maybe he’s got a thing for someone else, too. He didn’t seem fazed at all.”  


Pausing, Emma tapped her brush on the side of a jar. Since Ruby was definitely over Killian, and she was Emma’s best friend, the only thing she could do was let it all out. She had to tell someone, or she would absolutely explode. Looking up at her friend in the mirror, she paused, then turned to face her.  


“Rubes, I need to tell you something.”  


\--  


After some pre-gaming with the girls at Emma and Graham’s apartment, the ladies piled into a limousine and took off for the bar, where they were to meet up with Killian and his friend. Ruby’s date was also set to be there.  


The first stop of the night was a swanky martini bar. Ruby led the way as the ladies entered.  


A thin, gorgeous woman with Asian features and a black braid down the center of her back greeted them inside the door. She was petite but somehow statuesque in a floral maxi dress with 60s mod accessories. Emma beamed and offered her hand. “Mulan, it’s so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much,” she nudged a blushing Ruby, who slid her hand into Mulan’s free one.  


“Pleasure is all mine, Emma,” she smiled in return, “Thank you for inviting me tonight.”  


“No problem!” Emma giggled and gestured to the bar. “Shall we?”  


As they approached the bar, Emma spotted Killian across the room. She waved, beckoning him over.  


“Easy,” Ruby muttered into her best friend’s ear, “you’re kinda drunk so don’t say or do anything stupid, okay?”  


Killian and another young man stepped over. “Ladies, good to see you,” he smiled to Emma and the girls, “this is my older brother Liam.”  


“Not...not that much older,” Liam corrected him, clearing his throat. They all greeted one another and agreed to ordering a round at the bar. Killian carried his camera bag on his shoulder, lifting his lens to take a few snaps here and there as everyone dove straight into the festivities for the night.  


Emma slid into a round booth near the back of the bar. Ruby was quick to supply her with a lemon drop martini and scooted in next to her. “So?” her Maid of Honor asked.  


“She’s beautiful, Rubes...Wow,” Emma beamed and nudged her friend. “I’m so happy for you.”  


“Yeah, not what I was asking about,” Ruby drew in a deep breath and seemed to force a smile. “Do you think you can behave when you’re drunk like this? I want you to have a good time, but maybe I should suggest that Killian leaves?”  


Rolling her eyes, Emma took a swig from the sweet and sour cocktail. “I’m fine. I’m in love with Graham. I’m marrying him soon.”  


Ruby nodded, eyes glued to Emma. It was obvious Ruby wasn’t going to let her out of her sight for the evening.  


Across the room, Emma spied Elsa leaning casually against the bar. Killian’s brother had made his way to her and was chatting her up. Good for Elsa. She was always so uptight and conservative as it was, very much the opposite of her younger sister Anna.  


Killian stepped up and snapped a few photos of the girls as they squished closer together in the booth. He laughed at their attempts to look casual, making silly faces at one another.  


“Alright, alright, look here,” he coached them, getting down on his knee to get the angle right. The girls all leaned in, smiling brightly at the camera. Emma pursed her lips and winked.  


Killian paused after taking the photo. He cleared his throat and backed away slightly. “Thanks, ladies,” he turned back to the bar.  


Ruby gave Emma a look.  


“What?!” She sighed, “I can’t make a kissy face at the camera?!”  


“Was it at the camera, or was it at the poor, suffering photographer?” Ruby muttered.  


Rolling her eyes, Emma finished her martini and placed the glass down. “Another!”  


Having decided they needed a more casual atmosphere to let loose, the group piled into a limousine and traveled down the road to a sports bar Emma liked to frequent with Ruby in their “younger days". In the car, Emma found herself squished between Killian and Mulan. She glanced over at him and giggled. “Sorry,” she muttered, doing her best not to press him too hard into the front partition.  


“Nah, no problem,” he grinned back at her, “better me stuck here than the bride.”  


“Right,” she tapped the gaudy tiara Ruby had insisted she wear. It flickered with tiny LED lights and sparkled in the mood lighting of the limousine.  


“So, does your brother live here in town?” She asked him, clawing desperately for something to talk about besides the fact that her uplifted cleavage was practically in his face.  


“Yeah, he moved here to help me through my divorce, and I can’t get the bugger to leave,” Killian grinned. He scanned down the row in the limo, then lifted an eyebrow, “Seems to be enjoying himself tonight.”  


“Hm?” Emma turned to see Liam engaged in deep conversation with Elsa at the end of the limo. Their hands were intertwined on her lap. Her jaw dropped slightly. Elsa was the most timid of all of her friends, and the fact that she would display any affection publicly was telling. “Oh my.”  


Lifting his fingers to his lips, Killian managed a loud wolf-whistle from his end of the limo to theirs. Liam turned to his brother and raised an eyebrow. The elder brother seemed annoyed, to say the least. Elsa blushed and released her hold on his hands. Liam took the opportunity to shoot a rude hand gesture to Killian.  


“How many more bars?” Killian asked with a laugh.  


“As many as we want!” Ruby shot back. She glanced at Emma and gave her a look. “Ems, you wanna check in with Graham when we get there?”  


Emma shook her head. “No, I don’t. Thanks, though, Mom…”  


Ruby sighed and returned to her chat with Mulan. The two young women shared a low conversation and small kisses as they bounced in the raucous limousine.  


“Mulan is nice. Not who I pictured for Ruby, but hey...whoever makes her happy, right?” Killian beamed.  


_Happy_. Emma nodded and smiled awkwardly. “Yeah, she’s great. I’m happy for them. Ruby is more serious about her than she’s been with the last four guys.”  


“Gee,” Killian laughed and rubbed at the back of his neck.  


“Sorry?” She laughed. “You’re amazing. You’re more than amazing. Your ex was an idiot, and you are going to find the most...incredible girl.” Word vomit. _Stop, Emma_.  


She watched him as he stared into her eyes. He was quiet, the bass of the music in the vehicle pounding in their ears.  


“I…” he stammered and looked away, going red all the way up to his pointy ears. God, she desperately wanted to nibble on them.  


She knew he had to feel the same way about her. Emma felt her chest tightening and she looked away, clenching her fists. This was so unfair. Why now? Why when she was weeks away from being married? This made it all too difficult.  


“We’re here!” One of the bridesmaids shouted. The piled out of the limo and made their way into the crowded bar.  


Emma quickly pulled away from Killian and strode inside. She slammed her credit card onto the bar. “Tequila for my people!”  


“Ems, maybe you should slow down,” Ruby hissed into her ear, “you’re gonna burn out or do something stupid.”  


“I’m fine!” Emma shouted, raising her arms. She gave a wiggle of her hips. “This is MY party!”  


The shots were poured. Dances were had. Everything started to get more and more blurry. Emma jumped and spun and shimmied on the dance floor. She laughed, dancing wildly with a complete stranger she'd met there on the floor. Spinning and spinning.  


\--  


Holding up a hand with a chuckle, Killian refused the tequila. He sat on a bar stool and watched as Emma had what seemed like the time of her life. Liam had pulled Elsa to a quiet corner, and Mulan was putting the moves on Ruby as she danced alongside drunk Emma.  


He had to keep some of his wits about him. One of them had to be a responsible adult, right? He pulled his phone from his pocket, flipping to a message from Liam.  


Message from Liam: _Holy shit little brother I'm in love_  


Killian laughed and replied.  


_You're drunk. But I can tell you like her. Good for you. If you forget to get her number I'll ask Emma for it later._  


He placed his phone down and ordered a glass of water. His phone buzzed on the bar top.  


“Jesus, get off your phone and pay attention to-" he froze as he lifted the device.  


Message from Milah: _I miss you._  


Not again. He drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. Another message came through.  


Message from Milah: _I’m in New York. I want to see you._  


His chest clenched and he was suddenly dizzy. The glass of water came sliding across the bar. Looking up at the bartender, he sent it back.  


“Double Bourbon, neat.”  


Two more drinks down and he was stumbling to the bathroom. He pushed open the door to the men’s room and leaned against the sink. The water came icy cold from the tap. Perfect. He slapped handfuls onto his face and neck, breathing. In his mind’s eye be could see her dark, soulful eyes as she told him she needed to “ _live more_ ". She meant, of course, that all of the deepest love and mind-blowing lovemaking in the world couldn't keep her happy - but money could.  


\--  


Emma leaned against a bar stool, wobbling slightly on her feet. She was just about done with her heels. Had they not been Louboutins, she probably would have chucked them into the garbage twenty minutes earlier.  


“Water, please,” she groaned to the bartender, hating the fact that she was throwing in the towel on drinking for the night. Seemed wrong to cut herself off at her bachelorette. Wasn’t that Ruby’s job? Glancing around the bar, she searched bleary-eyed for Ruby. The tall brunette was in a corner with Mulan, where they seemed to have found the perfect spot to make out. Emma shook her head. It was nice that Ruby was enamored with her new partner, but geez. Get a room.  


The water came across the bar and Emma took three hurried gulps from the glass. Her body was aching for hydration, to be sure. Tomorrow would be a rough day.  


After downing the remainder of the glass, she wobbled again as she turned. The bar stool was a swivel-type, and it was increasingly more difficult to hold herself up whilst leaning against it. Where was the damn bathroom? She’d been to this bar about a hundred times, but somehow, she couldn’t remember where she needed to go to tinkle. She giggled to herself. Tinkle.  


Shuffling off toward a corner, she was relieved to see a ‘Restrooms’ sign. She leaned against the first door and stumbled in, allowing it to slam behind her.  


Inside, Killian was bent over the sink. The room was dark and dingy, with fading green tiles and sketchy-looking stalls. It smelled overwhelmingly of urinal cakes. She blinked, realizing she was in the wrong room. But _goddamn_ if he didn’t look amazing in that moment. He was wet, having splashed himself with water from the sink. She stood for a moment to gather her bearings, watching him.  


How could she deal with never knowing? What if she married Graham and then...that was it? She would be pinned in this bland, lonely life forever. Forever wondering what could have been. And she never would know what those lips tasted like. _Now or never, Emma._  


\--  


The bathroom door opened, then slammed shut. He looked up at himself in the mirror and caught a sparkly reflection behind him. There was Emma. She had lost her tiara and she was covered in a sheen of sweat, but she was staggeringly beautiful in that moment.  


“Emma,” he breathed and turned to look at her.  


She stepped forward and grabbed his collar. With a sharp _yank_ , she pulled his body against hers and crushed her lips to his. He could faintly taste watered-down tequila and a hint of a fruity lip balm.  


It was instinctual, the way he pulled her close. His arms were first around her waist, and then suddenly his hands were under her firm, supple ass, lifting her up against the bathroom door.  


Emma’s hands tugged at his shirt. She held him close, the collar stretching out in her grasp. The room spun, dimly lit with a flickering fluorescent bulb. Her nails scratched over his chest as she parted her lips to accept his wanting tongue. She ground her hips against his crotch, moaning deeply.  


And just as fast as it had started, he pulled away. He settled her to her feet and backed a good distance from her. He was _wrecked_. Amped up, hard as a rock in his tight jeans, chest heaving, Killian was a mess. He ran his hands through his hair.  


“No,” he exhaled a deep breath and drew in another, “no, I won't do this to Graham. And I won't do it to you. You're marrying him.”  


Emma stared at him, dragging the back of her hand over her lips.  


“I'm so sorry,” she whispered, as she leaned against the bathroom door for support. “I shouldn't have...we...we shouldn't have.”  


“Even if things weren't like this, Emma, even if you weren't getting married...not like this.”  


She seemed to be lost in thought for a long moment. “Nobody will know.”  


He hated that she intended on keeping a secret from her husband-to-be. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Tell him. Don't have any secrets. I'm leaving New York as soon as I can, so I won't even be a problem.”  


“Because of me?”  


Killian shook his head, swallowing hard. “You're just one of many reasons.”  


There was a knock at the bathroom door. Emma jumped slightly, but stepped out of the way. A man entered, looking a tad befuddled.  


“Sorry, mate. She's leaving,” he gestured out the door. Emma gave him a lingering look, then wobbled out of the restroom.  


Before long, he was leaning his temple against the cold window of a cab. Street lamps surged and then faded in his peripheral as the cabbie drove him home.  


Upon reaching the docks, he stumbled down the gangplank and onto his boat. As he stepped inside, Roger whined and went to him, his tail wagging low.  


“Hey,” he patted the dog on his head and walked to the bedroom.  


Flipping on the light, he stopped in his tracks. Milah sat on his bed, her hands folded in her lap.  


“Hi,” she said quietly.  


\--  


Emma stumbled out of the mens’ room and into the ladies’. She sat against the tiled wall and buried her face in her hands. Not only had she just ruined things with Killian, but she may have also screwed up any chance of staying with Graham.  


His kisses tasted like whiskey and salt. His hands were firm, yet gentle. She closed her eyes, remembering the way he ground his hips against hers as her back pressed against the cold, hard metal door. What would have happened, had he not stopped? Would they have fucked right there in the bathroom?  


Ruby walked into the bathroom and paused, seeing Emma on the floor. “Oh, thank God, there you are,” she sighed and leaned down to offer her hands to her best friend. “Mulan and I lost track of you. Are you sick?”  


Emma shook her head and took Ruby’s hands, wrapping her arms around her and sobbing into her shoulder. “I kissed him.”  


“Emma,” Ruby groaned. She rubbed her back slowly and held her close. “It’s ok. Let’s get you home, alright? I saw Killian hailing a cab a few minutes ago so you don’t have to see him again tonight.”  


Emma nodded and sniffled, taking Ruby’s hand as she was led from the restroom out into the continuous party atmosphere of the bar.  


Liam offered to get Elsa back to her hotel. Ruby shot him a look of warning as they left. Elsa was quite obviously impaired from a few too many amaretto sours.  


“On my honor, Miss Lucas,” Liam promised. She nodded and climbed into the limo, leaving the pair to walk down the street hand-in-hand.  


Ruby walked Emma into the penthouse apartment and helped her out of her dress. Mulan ran a hot bath. Emma sank into the tub, leaning her head back upon the edge. While Mulan parted out of decency, Ruby stayed and sat with her friend.  


“Are you gonna tell Graham?” She asked, looking at her hands. Emma knew she couldn’t ask Ruby to keep the secret for her. It wasn’t fair.  


“Yes,” Emma whispered. “He wants me to tell him.”  


“Killian?” Ruby raised an eyebrow. “I know he’s an honest guy, but this could lose him the payment for shooting the wedding photos.”  


Emma turned her head to look at Ruby. “I don’t know if I can go through with this.”  


“You need to think about it when you’re not wasted,” Ruby stood and grabbed a towel from the nearby rack. She placed it next to the tub. “I’ll turn down your bed and get you some pajamas. We’ll chat more tomorrow, okay? Mulan and I are gonna crash in your guest room.”  


Emma nodded. “Thank you.”  


Once she was settled into bed and the lights were out, Emma turned to her phone. She looked at the last text she’d had from Graham, who had offered to stay in a hotel for the night.  


Message from Graham: _Have fun, baby. I love you._  



	6. Chapter 6

His tiny hot water heater couldn’t muster much, but what it did manage was searing. Killian stood under the stream of water in his shower, letting it cascade over his back and shoulders as he rubbed his face. His head was pounding and his ears were throbbing and his entire body ached with memories of the night before. His soul was equally in pain.  


Milah was still asleep, curled up under the cheap cotton sheets on his bed. He toweled off and tugged on a pair of jeans. Not the ones from the night before. No, those smelled like Emma. He couldn’t fathom thinking about Emma after what he’d come home to. It felt sacrilege.   


He moved bare-chested to his tiny refrigerator and snagged a bottle of water, chugging half of it down in one go. As he fumbled with the stupid child-proof cap on the industrial-sized bottle of pain relievers from the cabinet, he heard the padding of bare feet behind him.  


“Morning,” Milah said with a yawn, stretching her arms up over her head. She was wearing his t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. Despite her intentions, he’d tossed the roomier clothes at her before snagging a blanket and heading for his futon to pass out. “Fancy some greasy breakfast for that hangover?”  


\--  


The silence was deafening, despite the noisy background in the diner. Killian stared down into his cup of coffee as Milah buttered a piece of toast for herself. It was a diner they used to frequent, when they were married. The memories were harsh now, despite sunny days and laughter. They simply hurt him too much to acknowledge them as pleasant.   


“He started hitting me last year,” she said after a long pause, her toast lingering, buttered, in her hand.  


Killian looked up and examined her face. The heavy makeup from the day before still rested upon her once-perfect skin. His posture softened and he sighed, being both sorry that she had endured abuse and frustrated that she was still with the man until recently. There was never any reason to hit a woman, especially your wife. But she had always been so strong, so self-assured.  


“What took you so long to leave? The Milah I knew would have been gone after the first slug,” he raised his cup and tipped the black coffee to his lips.  


He knew the answer. The money. Milah tucked some of her dark, wavy hair behind her ear and shook her head. “It’s harder to leave than you’d think.”  


“I wouldn’t know,” he muttered as he put his cup down. The silence returned, thick and heavy between them. He mulled over things to say, but nothing seemed to fit the moment. “What he did to you was wrong. I’m sorry for that.”  


Milah released a deep breath and reached for his hand.   


He pulled back from her and leaned hard against the vinyl booth. “I’m in love with someone else. I think that means I’m over you, at last.”  


There was a visible change in her posture and expression. She retracted her hand and cocked her head to the side.   


“Killian,” she started, taking in a deep breath, “I’ve thought for years about ways to make this up to you. To tell you what an arse I’ve been. But nothing comes close to being enough.”  


“You’re right.”  


“Just let me finish,” she warned him, giving a look he’d seen often throughout their marriage, “I’m sorry. It’s all I can muster, but I’m sorry I ended things the way I did. I left for adventure and excitement. The things I thought money could bring me. But I never loved him like I love you.”  


He watched her for a moment. “You done?”  


Milah sighed. “Don’t be like this. I thought you had some compassion.”  


“I told you I’ve moved on,” he stared into her dark eyes. “I’m sorry you’re in a shit marriage, but there’s nothing I can do about that. Just get the hell away from the man if he’s hurting you. He doesn’t deserve anyone, with an attitude like that.”  


“By the state of you last night, I’d you haven’t fully moved on,” she dared him. “Is she not returning your affections?”  


“That’s none of your business,” he spat. Pulling cash from his wallet, he placed it on the table and slid out of the sticky booth. “We’re done, Milah. I don’t care where you go or what you do, but I’m not dealing with you anymore.”  


The bell on the door chimed as he left the diner, jogging down the stairs and onto the sidewalk. As he strode toward Liam’s place, he felt a sense of pride in himself that he hadn’t experienced in years. She was finally out of his life, hopefully for good.  


\--  


Liam’s apartment was located above his bar. Killian used his key, trudging up the stairs and into the living room. He made a beeline for the kitchen, ready to raid his brother’s pantry for whatever he could stuff into his face.  


“Li? You alive, mate?” He called back toward the bedroom.   


“Shh,” came an admonishment from the sofa. Liam sat up as Killian strolled back into the living room, a box of cookies in his hand. “Don’t wake her up.”  


Killian’s eyebrow raised. “Why’re you out here?”  


“She insisted on coming home with me, but she was drunk; I was drunk. Not how I roll. What’re you doing here?” His brother sat up and rubbed his eyes, still wearing his clothes from the night before, his shirt just slightly unfastened.  


“Bad night, needed to talk,” Killian sat in his usual spot, a recliner near the door. He munched on a cookie for a moment. “Went home to find Milah there. After a disastrous end at the bar.”  


Liam groaned and pushed himself off of the sofa, shuffling to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. “What happened at the bar?”  


Elsa emerged from the bedroom, her long white-blonde hair loose and wavy over one shoulder. She was red-cheeked and bashful as she laid eyes on Killian. “Hi,” she muttered, lifting her fingers to give a tiny wave.   


“Good morning, lass,” Killian smiled at her. “Cookie?” He tipped the box in her direction.  


To his surprise, she snagged one and nibbled on it as she walked into the kitchen. For a moment, there was silence, followed by a small giggle from each of them. Cute. But not what Killian needed to hear.  


“I’ll call you later, yeah?” He closed the box of cookies and left it in the chair, heading for the stairs. The lack of response told him he probably would not be missed.  


\--  


There was a soft click as someone entered her bedroom. Emma was buried beneath her covers, with a cocoon of duvet pulled around her head. She had designed the bedroom to be serene and comforting, with a fluffy duvet and excessive decorative pillows. The soft blue-grey of the walls reflected little light from the windows, and darkening shades helped with that effect, for when she refused to get out of bed with the sunrise.  


“Brought you some coffee,” Ruby whispered. She sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed at Emma’s shoulder. “You awake?”  


Emma grunted in reply. Everything hurt. And she had screwed up her entire life. She was fan-fucking-tastic.  


“I’ve got some ibuprofen too, babe. C’mon, let’s chat before I have to get going.”  


“Where are you off to?” Emma asked groggily.   


“Brunch with Mulan,” Ruby’s smile was evident in her voice. Ugh. Both the idea of food and a lovey-dovey couple made Emma slightly nauseous.  


Turning over, she looked up at her friend and sighed. “I’ve ruined all of it, Rubes. Everything.”  


“You need to be really specific with me about what happened, okay? This...this sort of shit happens. I want to try to make you feel better, but right now it sounds...insane.” Ruby offered up the coffee and pills.  


Emma relayed the details as she could remember them, groaning with agony as she relived the moment Killian was pressed against her. She could still smell him, musky with a hint of bourbon. He felt so good pressed between her legs. As she finished the story, with her banishment to the ladies’ room, she buried her head in the duvet once more.  


“Oh Em,” Ruby sighed and shook her head, “you guys were so blasted. Maybe Killian’s right. Just sit down with Graham and explain that you were impaired.”  


“Do you think we can really go through with the wedding with him there? I mean, Killian is going to be taking our photos. We can’t find another photographer at this late in the game. Three weeks.” She sat up and leaned against the headboard.   


Ruby watched her for a moment. “I think the real question is: After finding out that Killian has the same feelings for you and after having this amazing sexual chemistry with him...do you still _want_ to marry Graham?”  


Emma looked down at her lap and sighed. “I _have to_.”  


\--  


“Yeah, look, I know it’s insane. I promise to get you adequate backup, and I’m giving you my entire paycheck, plus my booking fee for the event. Trust me, these are high-profile clients, I just...I had something come up,” Killian spoke into the phone. He took his coffee from the barista and turned, stepping out into the street. “Thank you, you won’t regret it.”  


Killian felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It was better for both of them if Killian made a quick departure from her life. Passing off the last events, the rehearsal and dinner and the wedding itself, would be a huge financial sacrifice, but he couldn’t live with himself if everything was ruined because of him.  


He was preparing the boat for a sail down the coast. He thought maybe a bit of time down South would clear his senses and give him some perspective. Things in New York were too fast-paced, too intense. He jogged back onto the vessel with coffee in-hand and readied himself for the difficult call to Graham.   


\--  


No matter how much she tried to stop herself from thinking about him, Emma couldn’t. She was alone in her apartment, pacing the floor. She bit down on one of her manicured fingernails, cracking the polish with her teeth. Her phone sat on the coffee table. Why hadn’t he sent her a message? Did he hate her, now? Graham told her about the ‘emergency’ Killian supposedly claimed to have. He wasn’t going to shoot the wedding...if there was even going to be one.   


Not only was it excruciating to be without a single peep from Killian, but Emma still had no idea how to tell Graham what had happened. Was it more appropriate to tell him before the wedding, or should she wait until after? It was no use at the moment. Graham had flown off to China, despite her groaning about it. The wedding was a week away, and he was supposed to be coming back to New York only three days prior. Three. Days.   


She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists, shaking her head in frustration. _God_ , why were men so absolutely infuriating?!  


She picked up her phone and flipped through the contacts. Placing the device to her ear, she waited. “Elsa?” She took a seat on the sofa. “I need to know something, and I think maybe you can help.”  


\--  


The summer sun beat down on Killian as he scrubbed the deck of the _Jewel_. He was finalizing plans to head down the coast, but he also kept thinking of different things that needed to be done before he could leave. Maybe it was time to ditch the boat for an apartment. The only issue there would be price...so maybe a permanent move to the Carolinas would suit him?   


He pulled off his shirt and climbed down into his cabin, tossing the sweat-drenched garment onto the laundry pile. As he stepped past the computer, he paused and sighed. He stared at a jump drive on his desk. If he was going to leave, maybe it’d be best to deliver the photos he had completed and apologize in-person.  


After a shower and a brief apology to Roger for skipping their walk, Killian found himself in a cab to Manhattan. He fiddled idly with the jump drive, flipping it over and over in his hands. He had to move on and get Emma out of his head. There was no use in dwelling - she would marry the rich guy and leave him by his lonesome. He never should have given any indication to Emma that he was the least bit interested. Stupid, stupid, stupid.  


The cab pulled up outside of Emma’s building. He handed over the fare and climbed out, onto the sunny streets of the mid-June afternoon. The doorman greeted him with a smile and a nod, letting him make his way to the elevator.  


He stepped into the elevator car and pressed the button for the penthouse, then stepped back to lean against the wall. Elevator muzak was the absolute worst. But this...this song was familiar. It was a piano, fully-instrumental version of Ed Sheeran’s ‘Perfect’. The song had been playing that night in the bar. He recalled the guitar melody ringing in his ears as he pressed Emma against the bathroom door. His fingers tingled with memory of the feeling of the rough sequins on her dress. Cruel and unusual punishment. He’d never hear this song again without thinking of the taste of her lips.  


The elevator beeped and opened to Emma’s floor. He stepped forward and knocked softly on the door to the apartment. He focused on his feet, thinking of what he could say to make his departure better.   


The door opened, but neither Emma nor Graham stood behind it. There was an older woman with a broom and an apron.  


“Yes?” She asked, cocking her head to the side. “How can I help ya, love?”  


Irish, he noted. He wondered if she was related to Graham. They had similar eyes.   


“Hi, um, are Graham and Emma here?” He shifted slightly where he stood, gripping the jump drive.  


“Graham’s on a flight back to the states, and Emma’s off at her final fitting,” the woman smiled. “Can I leave a message for you?”  


“Just, um,” he held out the jump drive, hoping it wasn’t crazy sweaty like his palm, “could you give this to them? It’s the photos I took for them.”  


The woman eyed the slim black piece of plastic and laughed, “These computer things get smaller every day, don’t they? Thank you, I’ll make sure they get it.”  


With a nod, Killian stepped back from the door and made his way back to the elevator.   


\--  


Emma smoothed the fabric of her gown against her body. She stared into the mirror, watching the seamstress work on the hem of the dress. Ruby looked bored behind her, scrolling through things on her phone, seated sideways in the armchair the boutique had provided for her.  


Looking back to herself, her eyes traveled up to her own face. She looked tired. And most of all, she didn’t look happy. Graham was on his way home from China. Emma still hadn’t told him the truth. Maybe it was time. His reaction would set the scene for their lives, together or separate, from that moment forth.  


“I’m going to tell Graham tonight, Ruby,” Emma said with a heavy sigh. “I have to. Especially now that I know there wasn’t some ‘emergency’ with Killian. Elsa told me he’s leaving town because he’s uncomfortable about what happened between us.”  


Her maid of honor snorted. “Well, duh,” Ruby smirked and shook her head. “Did you _really_ think he had some kind of emergency?”  


Shifting where she stood, Emma cleared her throat and failed to hide her shame over thinking Killian would have been fine with the kiss. “Anyway, I’m gonna tell Graham. He’s gotta know.”  


Ruby glanced up and shifted to sit correctly in the chair. “And if Graham’s not okay with what happened?”  


Emma shrugged. “So be it.”  


“I think I’d want to know if Mulan kissed someone else,” her friend said after a moment. The seamstress’s eyebrows lifted, but she continued her work. Emma couldn’t help but notice the small reaction.  


“Can you excuse us for a moment?” Emma asked the woman on the floor. She pushed to her feet and shuffled out of the room. Pursing her lips, Emma shot her best friend a glare.  


“Sorry, I forgot she was there,” Ruby grimaced and stood, moving to Emma. “You really wouldn’t care if Graham threw you out on your ass for kissing the photographer?”  


She considered the idea. “It’d suck because I don’t know if they’d take your dress back, or mine. But I could pay for all of that. And I mean, he could just throw a party for taking the company public, right? Use the same space and whatnot. The food. Maybe ask them to dye the fondant on the cake a different color…”  


“No,” Ruby shook her head, “No, those are logistical things, Emma. You dodged this question last time I asked it, and this time I want a real answer. I want you to think with your heart. If Graham kicked you out for this indiscretion and Killian welcomed you with open arms, how would you feel?”  


Emma looked at herself in the mirror, thinking.   


\--  


As usual, Graham was on the phone when he made his way into the apartment that night. He laughed and gave some of his usual schmoozy lines about making the world a safer place and how Humbert Security was the best in the country. He paused, though, when he stepped into the bedroom and saw Emma sitting cross-legged in the center of their made bed. It was well past 11:30pm. He drew in a breath.   


“Hey, John, it’s late here. Can I give you a call tomorrow?” He finished up the call and climbed onto the bed next to her.  


Emma was staring at her hands, twisting her ring slowly around her finger.   


He nudged her with his shoulder, dipping his head slightly to look at her eyes. “Hey.”  


She looked up and forced a smile. “Hey.”  


“What’s up? You’ve got that look,” he frowned, “like I did something.”  


“Not you,” she reassured him. With a deep breath, Emma sat up slightly taller and took Graham’s hands into hers. “I need to confess something to you. I really doubt you’re going to like it.”  


His brow furrowed and he turned to face her more directly, not quite gripping her hands in return yet. “Okay?”  


This was it. Her heart was racing. This was the moment that would change everything for her, one way or another. It was time to just do it.  


“I got very, very drunk at my bachelorette party,” she began, looking into his eyes.   


“Not unusual,” he chuckled.  


“Please just…” she held up a hand to stop him. This was hard enough without playful banter associated with it. He settled in and frowned, waiting for more information.  


Emma sniffled, suddenly feeling her emotions welling up inside of her, threatening to spill over into hysteria. “I kissed someone.”  


Graham’s eyebrows raised. He thought for a moment. “People...kiss random strangers all the time when they’re wasted, don’t they?”  


“It was Killian,” Emma finally blurted. She felt the lump in her throat rising into a sob. “I’m sorry.”  


“The photographer?” He shook his head. “Why?”  


She released Graham’s hands and buried her face in her own, shaking her head. “I can’t explain it but...he’s always there for me. And he has been so supportive. And I’m attracted to him.” She spilled off reasons left and right, gasping for air between them. Graham was silent. When she finally managed to look up from her hands, he cleared his throat.  


“And so you don’t want to get married,” he whispered. She could see tears in his eyes. He shook his head.  


That wasn’t exactly what she was going to say. She was going to promise that everything would be okay. That it would work out. That one kiss meant nothing and Killian Jones was now out of their lives. But as she heard him say it, she realized he was right.   


“I don’t want to get married,” she repeated. “I’m calling off the wedding.”  


Graham drew in a deep breath and held it for a moment. He stood from the bed, walking to the window. “You know, I think...I think I knew you weren’t happy.”  


“You are an amazing man, Graham,” Emma said, turning to look at him. “Any woman would be so lucky to have you. But you’re married to your job.”  


He nodded . “Are you staying with the company, then?”  


Of course he’d ask that. She smiled faintly. “I’ve decided to sell my interest and move on.”  


He turned around, leaning back against the window frame. He was silhouetted in moonlight. “What do I do about all of the plans? The flowers and the catering…”  


“Just have one hell of a party,” she smiled at him, in an attempt to make the situation a tad lighter. “I’ll...I’m going to a hotel to stay for a while, until I can get moved out. I’m sorry, Graham.”  


His eyes flicked to the bag she had packed, sitting in an armchair. She watched him shake his head, as if he should have seen it before. “Good luck, Emma.” Pushing away from the wall, he strolled out of the bedroom. She listened as he left the apartment, the door closing behind him.  



	7. Chapter 7

This was his happy place. Killian was stretched out on the Captain’s chair on the deck of his boat. He lifted a beer to his lips, watching the horizon as he sailed down the coast, taking in the sight of the small fishing villages along the way. Roger padded up beside him and laid down.  


“This is it, Rog,” Killian said to his pet, “we’re getting out of that insanity. We’re heading out on our own, no troubles to think of, and just...relaxing.”  


The dog sighed heavily and flopped over onto his side, closing his eyes as the waves gently rocked the boat.  


Killian’s phone buzzed in his pocket. They weren’t far enough from the shore to lose signal. He silently wondered if it might be worth it to head a few more miles out, just for the sake of peace. Instead, he lifted the phone from his pocket and swiped.  


Message from Liam: _You need to come back._  


He groaned and replied.  


_Why? I’m happy out here._  


Message from Liam: _The wedding is off._  


Killian swallowed hard and stared at the wheel in front of him. What would happen if he did return? Did he think Emma was just going to run into his arms? Unlikely. His brow furrowed. _Damnit._ He had to turn back. Emma had put the kibosh on her wedding because of him. He had an apology to make. Grabbing the wheel, he gave it a tug, shifting the rotor to starboard to turn his course North.  


\--  


The bar was much quieter than the night of her bachelorette party. Emma sat on a bar stool, swirling her drink slowly with its thin black straw.  


“Hey,” Ruby said, approaching. She took a seat next to Emma and asked the bartender for a water.  


“Water? Drink with me so I don’t feel like an alcoholic,” Emma muttered to her friend. She leaned over and rested her head on Ruby’s shoulder. “Am I an idiot?”  


Ruby swallowed hard and wrapped her arms around Emma. “No, you did what you thought would bring you happiness. I’m proud of you.”  


“I hope I did the right thing,” Emma sighed and pulled back to look up at Ruby. Only in that moment did she realize her friend looked, well, awful. She wore no makeup (completely weird) and had red-rimmed, dark-bagged eyes. “Woah. You look like shit.”  


Ruby frowned. “Thanks, exactly what I needed to hear.”  


“Sorry, I’m...just...is there something going on with you? With Mulan?” Emma realized she hadn’t paid a whole lot of attention to her friends’ relationships since things had gone sour with Graham.   


“I need to tell you something,” Ruby whispered, her voice cracking. “And I need you not to kill me.”  


“Kill you?” Emma laughed incredulously.   


“I’m late. Like...two months late. And…” Ruby trailed off, staring at the bar top. “I’m sorry.”  


It took a moment for Emma to register what her best friend was saying, given the overall mental fog and alcohol combination. She cocked her head to the side. “You’re pregnant?”  


Ruby shrugged, a tear running down her cheek. “I might be?”  


“And it would...have to be Killian’s,” Emma breathed.   


With a bitter laugh, Ruby nodded. “It sure as hell ain’t Mulan’s.”  


Emma wrapped her arms around her friend and pulled her close. “How many tests have you taken?”  


“None,” Ruby answered quickly, “I can’t bring myself to do it.”  


“Have you said anything to Killian?” Emma paid for her drinks and grabbed her handbag. Ruby shook her head in response. Emma took Ruby by the hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’m going to buy you a test, and you’re going to take it. You have to know for sure, and then...we can...I don’t know. Call him, discuss options…”  


The brunette drew in a deep breath and nodded, angrily wiping at her face with her free hand.  


The pair climbed into a cab. Emma never let go of Ruby’s hand as they rode down the street to a corner drug store. What it all meant for Ruby and what it meant for Emma herself were two very different things. She considered Killian’s reaction to a child. He had seemingly hinted before at wanting kids of his own. But with Ruby? Each of them had agreed that the relationship was hardly forged from a deep connection. But would that change if they shared a baby? Handing a tip to the driver, Emma hopped out and hurried into the store.  


As the cab idled outside, a terrified Ruby within its back seat, Emma rushed through the store to the family planning section. She eyed rows and rows of condoms before coming upon pregnancy tests. In her younger years, she and Graham had experienced a scare of their own. They were young and stupid and they stood for what felt like _hours_ in the aisle, trying to figure out which one to buy. Experience had now taught Emma that brand was not important, but quantity was a more reassuring quality. She grabbed a three-pack of tests and hurried to the counter.  


The cashier lazily swiped the barcode over the scanner and yawned out the total. Emma paid with her phone. “Good luck,” the clerk said with a smirk. Emma rolled her eyes before jogging back out of the door to the waiting cab.   


“I got three,” Emma exhaled as she scooted closer to her best friend, who seemed absolutely wrecked with anxiety.  


“Three? Why do I need three?” Ruby’s eyes widened.   


“If you get three tests with the same result, the results are more...reassuring,” Emma rubbed at Ruby’s arm. She gave directions to the cab driver.   


Despite the supposed pregnancy not even being her own, she was a mess. Emma’s eyes remained on the asphalt in front of them as they weaved their way downtown to the hotel where she was staying. Ruby was silent, with the occasional rubbing of a tear from her face. It was obvious that Ruby hadn’t had the ability to go through with taking the test on her own. Despite everything, Emma was glad she could be there for her friend.  


Inside the hotel room, Emma fought with the packaging on the box. She pulled out the plastic-wrapped sticks and waved them at Ruby. The taller woman stared at the tests as if they were alien species.  


“You pee on it,” Emma urged her, shaking the tests. Ruby took the sticks with a shaky hand and disappeared into the bathroom.   


“How long does it take?” Ruby asked from inside, her voice echoing in the small room.  


Emma grabbed the box, her brow furrowing. “Uh, three minutes?”  


“Jesus,” Ruby muttered, followed by a string of curse words and plastic wrappers.  


After a few minutes, Ruby emerged. “I left them on the sink. You’ll have to look for me.”  


“Sure,” Emma nodded. She reached out and pulled Ruby into a tight hug. “Listen, no matter what, I’m here for you. And I promise everything will be okay.”  


Silently, Ruby nodded in response and feebly hugged her friend.   


Longest. Three minutes. Of their lives. Emma flipped on the TV and took a seat on the edge of the bed. She tapped the ‘Channel Up’ button on the remote, surfing through to find something watchable. Surely that was three minutes’ worth of time, yes? She looked at the clock. 2:46. Ruby had taken the test at 2:45. Jeez.  


Ruby paced up and down the hallway next to the bathroom door. She was biting her fingernails, staring at the ugly hotel room carpet as she moved back and forth.   


Emma tapped her fingernails on her cell phone. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears. If Ruby was having Killian’s baby...how would she even fit into this? It was ludicrous to think that she could just adopt the baby on a whim and offer to raise it with him, right? Right. Stupid. Don’t make plans like that until you’re sure about all the moving parts.  


“Is it time?” Ruby asked, turning to the clock. 2:47. Emma shook her head and flopped back onto the bed.  


“Why does this take forever? They should have made an app for this by now,” Emma muttered.  


Ruby snorted. “I’m not peeing on a phone.”  


The tension in the room broke as Emma laughed. She scrubbed at her face with her hands. Ruby howled with laughter alongside her, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. God, the whole situation was ridiculous.   


“I can’t be a Mom yet, Emma. I’m not ready,” Ruby said finally, after their laughter died. “Just...give me some good news, okay?”   


Emma glanced at the clock. 2:48. Three minutes were up. She bent to give Ruby a hug and kissed her forehead before stepping into the restroom. The three sticks were laid out on the counter. From her angle, she couldn’t see the results. At this very moment, it was Schrodinger's Pregnancy Test. Both positive and negative until she looked. Taking in a deep breath, she leaned forward.  


Each of the white sticks showed only one pink line in the indicator window. Emma raised the box, examining the directions.  


“Well?” Ruby shouted from the bed.   


Emma grinned and bolted from the restroom. “No baby!”  


Ruby screamed and threw her arms around Emma, dancing in the hallway with her. “I’m not pregnant!”  


The two women laughed loudly, screaming away their nervous energy.   


After a moment, Ruby shook her head. “I thought I had ruined it all for you,” she confessed. “I want you to be happy. So you need to talk to him. Tell him how you feel. And maybe don’t mention this?”  


“Yeah, probably not the best thing to tell him right now,” Emma laughed, relieved. She hugged Ruby one more time and grabbed her phone, thumbing in a message to Killian.  


\--  


Maybe his timing wasn’t the best, but Killian knew what he had to do. He’d made arrangements already to meet with Emma later in the day to talk things out. But for now, here he was, standing outside of Graham Humbert’s apartment. With a deep breath, he raised his fist and knocked.  


There was some motion inside. Someone was there. As the door swung open, Graham appeared and sighed.  


“Last person I expected to see,” the Irishman muttered. “What do you want, Jones?”  


Killian cleared his throat. “I wanted to apologize. For what happened with Emma. I never intended for any of this to happen.”  


“You’ll go out of business if you keep seducing the brides. Can’t say my online review is going to be particularly stellar,” Graham raised a brown bottle to his lips and took a swig.   


Blinking, Killian nodded, supposing that was deserved. He shifted his weight. “Mate, look, she kissed me and...yes, I kissed back for a moment. But I was already having second thoughts about this gig. I knew I was in trouble right around the time we had the engagement photos, and…”  


Killian never saw the fist coming. He stumbled back against the elevator, white light before his eyes, his jaw aching. He groaned and pushed himself up, spitting blood onto the fancy marble floor.   


“How dare you. You should’ve bloody left the moment you thought you had feelings for my fiancee. She was going to be MY WIFE, you idiot!”  


“You weren’t right for her!” Killian shouted in return, clenching his own fists. “You never had her interests in mind!”  


Graham stepped back and took in a deep breath. He stared daggers at Killian for a moment, then sighed. “You’re right. I let her slip away. You’d better treat her like a goddess.”  


“I don’t know that I have any intention --” Killian had to be honest, here. He wasn’t sure an actual relationship with Emma was in the cards. Especially after all of this.  


“If you love her,” Graham interrupted him, pointing a finger, “you had better keep her. She’s the most amazing woman in the world.”  


Of course he had to agree at the moment, but the question was, did Killian even deserve a woman like her? He was a brooding drunk most of the time, and he had no money or connections like Graham did. Would she accept him? After all of this, after calling off a wedding so huge it was in the society sections of the New York Times, would she even want him?  


“I know she is,” Killian licked his lips, tasting blood. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fuck up your life. But if I’m being completely honest about this, she wouldn’t have come looking for me that night if she wasn’t dissatisfied with your relationship in some way.”  


Graham’s gaze fell to the floor. He shook his head. “Too much work. She and I started this company together, you know. But at some point, I just wrestled it away by myself. It wasn’t fair, and I ended up overburdened. The thing is, I liked it. And instead of nurturing my relationship with Emma, I nurtured the business.”  


Killian listened in silence. He let the man vent.   


“Every time I turned down a dinner arrangement with her or canceled a Saturday excursion, I could see it in her eyes,” the Irishman looked up at Killian once more. “I saw those pictures you took. You got her to glow. She was happy when you were there. And with me, that same look wasn’t there.”  


“Had things been different, mate,” Killian began, but he couldn’t finish it. He merely shrugged. “Sorry.”  


“Yeah,” With a nod of acknowledgement, but he suspected not acceptance, Graham stepped backward and pulled the door shut.   


Killian stepped out onto the street minutes later and sighed. He’d been Robert Gold in this situation. He’d stolen someone else’s woman, and he felt like the scum of the earth for it. Pulling out his phone, he dialed Liam and made his way back out of town.  


\--  


“What?” Liam whispered into the phone as he answered.  


“Did I wake you? It’s almost noon,” Killian frowned, glancing at his watch.   


“No, I’m just trying not to wake Elsa,” Liam muttered.   


He couldn’t help but smirk on his brother’s behalf. “Way to go,” he congratulated him before continuing, “I just apologized to Graham.”  


“And?” His brother’s voice was louder, and he suspected he was in a safer spot to speak.  


Killian sighed. “Got a bag of frozen peas I can borrow?”  


\--  


Elsa poured a cup of tea for Killian before shuffling back to the kitchen. He smiled at Liam, who looked way more rested and happy than he had in ages.   


“I told her I’d handle this, but...she insists,” Liam had a hint of pink in his cheeks as he watched Elsa work in the kitchen. “Did you know she runs one of the top architecture firms in New York? She’s the Queen Bee there and yet she’s spending time with a lowlife bartender like me.”  


“Quit,” Elsa rolled her eyes as she wandered back in and took a seat next to Liam. Killian gave a slight smile and pressed the peas more firmly against his bruised jaw. “How are you feeling?” She asked, picking up her own cup of tea.  


Killian shrugged and put the peas down to take a sip of his tea. “Like maybe I shouldn’t talk to Emma later.”  


“I think you need to, little brother,” Liam warned. “She’s given up a lot for you.”  


“I wish I’d have known,” Elsa sighed, “but I guess Ruby did.”  


Killian’s eyebrow raised. “Even when…”  


“No, no,” Elsa insisted, raising her hands and waving them quickly, “I mean after you guys broke up, Emma told her she had a thing for you and was worried about the state of the wedding.”  


Putting down his teacup, Killian groaned and leaned back against the armchair. “It’s just so fucked up. How do you start a relationship on the tail end of this?”  


Liam and Elsa shook their heads. It seemed an impossible task. Facing their feelings for one another and apologizing for the mistakes of the past and then trying to piece together some semblance of a relationship?  


\--  


They’d agreed to meet uptown at The Chipped Cup on Broadway. She hadn’t wanted to be there too early, so Emma walked the three blocks from her hotel. As she approached the coffee shop, she drew in a heavy breath and closed her eyes. This would be her first time meeting with Killian as an unattached woman. How would he act? Would he kiss her again? Her lips ached to be kissed like that once more. Or, would he dismiss her entirely, as he had at the bar? She had to keep reminding herself that no matter what, she had not left Graham _for_ Killian. She had left Graham for herself. To become her own person. To define her life outside of the company they had built and the life they had forged under the context of their professional relationship.   


Emma was dressed in jeans and a flowy pink top. She walked down the stairs to the entrance and stepped into the rustic space. Killian was at a table near the windows. He looked up as the door chime sounded in the mostly-empty shop. She watched him fumble slightly as he stood to greet her.  


“Hi,” he said, almost dropping his phone as he attempted to put it on the tabletop next to his coffee.   


“Hi,” Emma echoed, pausing and licking her lips. She forced a smile, her heart pounding with overwhelming anxiety in the moment. “Thanks for meeting me.”  


“Have a seat,” he attempted a smile, but it looked pained. Emma then noticed the bruise developing along his jaw. She reached out to him. He flinched slightly and cleared his throat. “I went to see Graham this morning.”  


Her eyebrows raised and she sighed, taking a seat at the table. “Well that wasn’t the best idea,” she muttered.   


“I had to apologize,” he replied, sitting back down in his creaky wooden chair. “I ruined everything.”  


Emma paused and watched him, her head crooked slightly to the side. “You know I did this for me, right? I didn’t leave him for you.”  


Killian looked as if he’d been slugged again. His lips parted, but he seemed unable to form words.   


“I mean, yes,” Emma nodded, “kissing you was kind of the catalyst and it gave me a boost to do what I needed to do. But I was unhappy with Graham for a while. I left to figure myself out.”  


His shoulders slumped slightly. “So you’re not, you didn’t...you aren’t interested in…”  


“Oh, I’m interested,” she laughed nervously, a blush in her cheeks. She ran her fingers through her hair. “Very much so. I just don’t know if now is the right time to jump into everything.”  


Killian sat for a moment and touched his tongue to the spot where his lip was split, presumably by Graham’s fist. He reached out a hand. Emma glanced at it and moved to give her own to him, but he shook his head.  


“Your phone,” he said.   


Emma’s brow furrowed. She took her phone from her pocket and placed it in his hand. She unlocked it, as she assumed he’d want access to it.  


Killian took the phone and fiddled with it for a moment, then handed it back to her. She glanced at the screen.  


“Killian from the Coffee Shop” was now his name in her contacts, as opposed to ‘Killian Jones Photographer’ as it had been. She cocked her head to the side and glanced back up at him. He had obviously fiddled with his own phone as well. He held it up to her. “Emma from the Coffee Shop” was next to her number in his contacts.  


“I don’t get it,” she laughed, shaking her head.   


Killian offered his hand once more and Emma moved to put her phone back into it, but he laughed. “Hi, I’m Killian. I’m a photographer with no money, I’m divorced, I live on a boat with my dog, and I hate hazelnuts. It’s nice to meet you.”  


Starting over. Forgetting everything. She let a grin creep slowly across her features and slid her hand into his. “I’m Emma. I have no job, a lot of money, I don’t much care for boats, and I’m freshly out of an eight-year relationship. It’s nice to meet you, too.”  


“Can I buy you a drink, Emma?” he nodded toward the counter. “The coffee’s pretty good.”  


She bit down on her lower lip. “Sure. Hazelnut if they’ve got it.”  


“As you wish,” he stood and wiggled his eyebrows before sauntering to the counter.  


It felt right. It felt natural. She was starting over in every way possible. No longer had she been involved with her wedding photographer. Now, he was just some guy she met in the coffee shop (at least to them).  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If so demanded, I could probably do an epilogue for this. But I wanted to leave it a little open-ended so you could fill in the blanks yourself. I hope you've enjoyed!


End file.
